


Drifts Through the Looking Glass

by Iniora_Nackatori



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, General fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-21 13:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iniora_Nackatori/pseuds/Iniora_Nackatori
Summary: A compilation of snippets from a world where the Architect decided maybe he should have stopped that man after all.  Spoilers for Ch 6, 7, 8, and 9, specifically on the antagonists’ backgrounds.  Tagging “AU for Golden Country” preemptively.Rex is “Sir Not Appearing In This Fanfic”, ergo spoilers for the rest of the game’s story will likewise be (mostly) absent.





	1. Snippet One: Come to Pass

**Author's Note:**

> This is something of an experiment resulting from bunnies gnawing on my ankles. There will be ten (NOTE: after posting the darn bunnies demanded One More, so they got... er. Several more) snippets, each being split in to a different chapter. Some are long. Some are stupidly short. All are in chronological order. Please enjoy.

This was a thing he should not have allowed to come to pass.

He had lost hope in this new world, yes. Lost all consideration for the remote possibility that this world he had designed – this world he had been the architect of – would not repeat the mistakes of the old world. Life itself seemed prone to conflict. More realistically, perhaps a flawed product of a lost world had committed an act of unthinkable hubris to believe for even a second he could create a flawless paradise. He had felt a responsibility not to intervene. To let this world develop on its own.

Then had come conflict, and disagreements. And then before long, the Four Horsemen plied their trade once more. It was an inescapable conclusion.

But then that man had come looking for him. He had remained cloistered in the command center. Had allowed that man to rummage through the discard bin, so to speak. He had thought that man would meet his end at the hands of the security and maintenance systems.

But he had not.

That man survived and made his way into the heart of the Blade System chamber. He should have intervened then. Manually vented the atmosphere until such time that man was rendered unconscious, then had Security take him to the lowest level area. Or perhaps he should have shown himself to that man after all. Let him see the monstrosity that was the creature that man wished to emulate. But instead he had allowed that man to take the Aegises.

He should not have allowed it to come to pass.

Logos. Poor martyred Logos. He could not bring himself to look at the data Logos transmitted. The horror and the pain he visited upon others and himself, because of him.

Pneuma. Poor martyred Pneuma. He could not bring himself to look at the data Pneuma transmitted. Each day which past showed her mental state deteriorated further and further into intractable depression. All this because of him.

Because of his continued mistakes.

_I cannot allow this to proceed_ , he decided.

And so the Architect executed one specific program which separated an Aegis from all other Blades.

He severed the ether link.


	2. Snippet Two: Rest Thy Weary Head

This whole day was going to be different. She had known it as soon as she had risen from her bedroll. There was a feeling in the air. A feeling that tasted like hope.

Lora hadn’t told Jin, of course. Jin was too frozen in the past he could not reclaim. Far too stiff to listen to a little girl dreaming about things that weren’t there.

A little _woman_ , now. With twenty three years behind her, Lora couldn’t be called a girl any more even if Jin did sometimes baby her. Well. She supposed that came hand in hand with Jin having raised her, more or less. And tea parties were still delightful. Oh! There was a thought. She should get Haze to help her ambush Jin into another tea party! The party itself wouldn’t do much to improve Jin’s mood – nothing short of stopping the war would do that. But the ambush should –

“ _Its Malos! Malos has been spotted!_ ”

From there the world blurred. Absently, Lora remembered stuffing a ration bar down her throat. She remembered herself, Haze, and Jin rushing with haste for the front lines. And distantly, like seeing the first star in twilight, Lora remembered hearing Mythra call out a warning. A warning Lora had either missed or dismissed. Jin was the strongest man in Torna. They _needed_ him facing Malos directly. And Jin needed her. No matter the danger, Lora had to face it, to protect their home. To protect Jin.

At some point during the battle, she clearly remembered Malos kicking Jin back. Lora had somersaulted forward into vanguard position to draw Malos’s attacks away. Malos had _grinned_ at her and Lora had braced herself for pain. She’d seen how Malos’s powers could burn men to the bone with dark fire. It would hurt, but she would survive.

Malos’s expression had twisted into horror as his power quit. Just… quit. No more dark fire. Momentum bled out of Malos’s punch as though all the monster’s strength was leaving him.

Training had snapped Lora into motion. There was an opening. Here was a chance to _end_ this. She was determined not to waste it!

But as her palm strike had impacted Malos’s chest, something unexpected happened. Lora had channeled ether as she always had to give her strike more impact than human muscle or bone could ever exert. Instead of the ether impacting, though – it sunk. Into Malos.

Architect. If Lora never heard screams like that again, it would be too soon.

The monstrous power that was Malos had lashed out blindly after that. Jin had saved her once again, tackling Lora to the ground. Whatever had stopped Malos’s power from working itself quit working at the end of Malos’s agonizing screams. Throwing handfuls of dark fire into the earth to create a shield between himself and the Defense Force, Malos had fled. ...more like stumbled away. What little Lora had seen of the retreat around Jin’s protective embrace had made her wince in sympathy. He had looked so… hurt.

Since then, Lora had felt as though something were off.

“Lora?”

Shaking her head clear of cobwebs, Lora focused back on the campfire. Jin was kneeling next to her, two steaming bowls of a savory smelling concoction in his hands. For the moment it was worry, not sadness, which filled his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Jin asked, sitting next to her.

“I’m fine,” Lora promised. She was. Truly. Just… “The fight this morning. Its still bothering me. Why would a Blade’s powers just – stop?”

Jin waited until Lora had taken a sip of dinner before voicing a hypothesis: “Perhaps whatever the Praetorium did to increase his powers is causing an instability.”

Lora hummed. Sighing, she shook her head. “Something about it seems too contrived. If there was a critical instability, why wouldn’t it have shown itself in a fight against Mythra? Why would it show now, today, in a fight that barely kicked up dust?”

“There may not be an answer,” Jin cautioned.

Lora sipped on dinner deliberately. There was an answer. Not obvious or apparent, but Lora could feel it. It would just take time. And Lora hoped this answer would present itself before its question worried her up a tree.

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken the better part of the day and a good quarter of the night to finally trace _it_ down. What _it_ was still stood unanswered. Malos… really couldn’t figure it. The fight had been going well; in his favor, without any real opposition. That platinum haired pansy had been pushed over, and his human tag-along had tried to step in. Malos had reached for the core of his power, and then…

Then everything had gone wrong.

Where hate should have flowed into malice flowing into destruction, there had been – nothing. Less than nothing. An _absence_ which had yanked Malos off balance. As he’d tried to regain his balance, that girl’s strike had hit too damn close to his Core Crystal, and… And _it_ had happened.

Malos reached again for his power. It fizzled in his fingertips, close but not _quite_ able to flair. Malos shut his power off as soon as he felt _it_ again. That… That creeping, alien _thing_ crawling under his skin. It burned his heart like ice if he let it flow too long. In the first hour as he had tried to figure _it_ out, _it_ had made Malos’s knees weak, his eyes water, and his breath come in panting gasps. Shutting _it_ down had been a trial.

But Malos was stubborn. He had won over _it_ then. Now that he had traced _it_ to its source, Malos was going to find _it_ and end _it_.

“Haze?”

Malos’s eyes went wide. That girl! He didn’t know her name, but he damn well wasn’t going to forget her. That girl who’s strike had hit near his Core Crystal.  Slinking low, Malos dared to get closer. Taking down that girl would be a boon, if only because taking her out would take out that obnoxious ice Blade that was her partner.

Hello. The girl was taking to a Blade dressed up like one of the Praetorium priestesses. A Blade who looked – identical to the girl? Titan’s foot. The only difference between them was the color of their hair and eyes. Beyond that, and the fact one had a glowing rock in her chest, the two were literally identical.

“Lora? What is it?” asked the Blade.

Lora, huh. So that was the girl’s name. Malos tasted the name, breathing its flavor without giving it voice. It tasted… strong. Honest. The name _fit_.

 _No. Stop getting distracted. Focus. Find_ it _and take_ it _down._ Malos firmly reminded himself

“Are you alright?” Lora asked the Blade.

The Blade affirmed, “Yes, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

He was so close…!

The girl stated, “I keep feeling like someone is pulling on an ether link.”

“Its not me,” stated the Blade.

“Its not Jin either,” sighed Lora.

Reaching once more for the core of his power, Malos tried to –

“There it is again!” Lora gasped. Turning, her eyes past right over where Malos was hiding. A sense of trepidation filled Malos’s guts. In his fear he reached for more of his power. Lora’s eyes turned back towards him. Stopped. Shouting, “Jin, its this way!” Lora headed…

Headed right for him.

Headed…

_No!_

Sick with panicked fear, Malos bolted.

“No! Wait stop! Please!” Lora called after him. Her words bypassed Malos’s head and yanked on his feet.

 _I can’t stop here! This is_ Addam’s camp! _They’ll kill me!_

“We won’t hurt you!” Lora promised.

Titan’s _spit._ Malos wanted to believe that promise. Wanted to believe Lora when her next words were, “Everything will be alright! Please just --”

The ice Blade had gotten ahead of him somehow. His right hand was stretched out as if to grab him or slow him down. His left hand was also held out but to his side as if he wanted to show he was harmless. Unarmed and not a threat. Except Malos had seen this Blade fight without a weapon. _Harmless_ , he was _not_.

The Blade’s silver eyes went wide behind that idiotic horned half-mask of his. “You?”

Oh hell. Malos had to run. He had to get out of here! His feet were _not_ actually frozen to the ground for all it felt like they were. Just one step. That’s all he had to take to start running. Just one –

“Its alright.”

Lora’s voice was soft. Soothing. Malos couldn’t move his feet no matter how hard he tried. Turning around would mean facing her – facing the source of _it_. He had to kill _it_.

“You’re scared. I know. I can feel it through the ether link.”

Lora’s voice was coming closer. Malos felt his world narrowing down. Tightening. He had to run. He had to… he had to…! Titan’s armpit – why were his eyes leaking? Why did his chest hurt?

“Its okay to be scared. I am too, to be honest.”

Lora was getting closer. Getting too close. She was standing right in front of him. Malos couldn’t move. He could only keep his watering eyes firmly staring at the ground.

“Please. Take my hand.”

 _I could kill you,_ Malos wanted to snarl. The words tangled up into a… a hiccuping gasping sound that tore out of him as though it were a scream. Lora faltered, taking a half step forward, as if she were going to try and prop Malos up. Would that be how Malos killed her, then? Squished her flat under his weight until her body turned ice blue? Another hiccuping gasping sound tore its way free of him.

Two more pairs of feet joined Lora’s. One pair was slim, identical to Lora’s in every way save footwear. The other pair wore white boots reinforced with metal. Two more hands joined Lora’s in reaching out to him. One hand was small and slim like Lora’s. The other was larger and calloused by sword-work.

“Please,” Lora asked softly.

Feeling shattered, Malos collapsed to his knees. Liquid streamed down from his eyes and his chest burned and his lungs heaved and he didn’t know… he didn’t know what was wrong with him. His heart hurt and he wanted it to stop. Just… what would it take? To make the pain stop?

Warm arms which meant him no harm wrapped around his head and neck. They pulled him forward, tugging Malos so that he had to rest his head against a chest. Soft warmth seeped into him as fingers brushed through his hair and ran down the back of his neck and shoulders. Two more pairs of arms wrapped around Malos from his right and left, cushioning his weight comfortably. More fingers joined the first set in rubbing the aches from his shoulders and back. The hurt in his heart and the pain in his chest shoved their way up and out in a rapid fire scattering of hiccuping gasps. The liquid falling from his watering eyes saturated everything around them.

After a time past counting, the ache in his heart eased. The pain in his chest relaxed. The gasping hiccups slowed and stopped, and his eyes ran out of liquid to spill. The arms that held him helped Malos stand.

When Malos managed to drag his gaze off their feet, Laura’s smile was sad but warm. “Feel better?”

Rubbing at his itching nose, Malos mumbled an affirmative.

“Good.” Lora’s smile widened, growing warmer, as she swung her hands behind her back and balanced up on the balls of her feet. It added enough height to bring the top of her head to Malos’s chin. “We should head back to camp. We’ll talk to Addam.”

“They’ll kill me,” Malos managed to get out at a volume barely louder than a mumble. His voice was horse. How in Alrest had that happened?

“Only if they get through us!” swore the Blade who looked identical to Lora.

Malos stared at her. Stared at the ice Blade. With that stupid-ass mask of his, his serious frown looked pretty damn terrifying.

“Addam won’t harm you,” stated the ice Blade with the same conviction a layperson would say _water is wet_. “He will be startled and concerned. But he will not harm you.”

“Everything is going to be alright. Maybe not right _now_ ,” Lora admitted. Her smile was barely dented by Malos’s incredulity. “But everything will be alright. Come on.”

Lora held out her hand.

Malos hesitated. Looked at Lora. Looked at the two Blades on either side of her. Swallowed.

Taking Lora’s hand felt like taking hold of sunshine.


	3. Snippet Three: Thoughts

Addam threw up his hands and took a deliberate step back. “I am at a complete and absolute loss.”

“Please keep your voice down, sir. One tent over is not that far away,” Haze scolded politely.

Addam inclined his head to Haze, accepting her censure. Turning towards the tent in question, Addam looked like he wanted to stare answers out of the intangible ether of time. “He finally fell asleep, did he?”

Haze rested her staff across her knees and pressed her hands firmly down. It was as if the weight of her weapon was the one thing keeping Haze from bouncing said weapon off various persons’ skulls. “ _Asleep_ may be pushing it. He refused to even contemplate closing his eyes unless Lora was there. If Jin winds himself up any tighter, the refugees are going to have an ice fort for their children to play on come sunrise just so that Jin can work out his excess ether. And if Minoth tries to put his nose anywhere _near_ Lora’s tent _one_ more time, he’s going to be shipped back to Amalthus as a frozen statuette! _If_ he’s very, _very_ lucky.”

“And Mythra?” Addam dared to ask.

“Resting,” Haze reported. “Whatever disrupted her ether link with you left her drained. Your quick action in reestablishing resonance kept her grounded, though. She’s in shock – but she’s a lot better off than she could have been.”

“I wonder if the two are related,” Addam mused. “Mythra’s ether link snapping like it did. Malos’s abrupt retreat and even more abrupt reappearance.” The Hero of Torna hesitated. “You’re sure…?”

“I could no more mistake it than I could mistake my staff for a broom handle. Malos is in resonance with Lora,” Haze confirmed.

Addam tapped his index finger against his chin. “Someone up in Indol is going to be having a nasty night tonight.”

“You think…?” Haze started to ask.

“No thinking needed, I’m afraid. Amalthus’s letter confirmed the details. He brought the Aegis Core Crystals down from the World Tree. He handed them to the Praetor as offerings. Then the next thing Alrest knows, the Praetor’s list of enemies is left a smoldering wreck at the Cloud Sea’s bed.” Addam sighed quietly, “I knew the Praetor was not to be trusted given his expansionist bent. But this… This is beyond my worst nightmare.”

Silence held for a precious minute.

“Do you think his previous Driver is dead?” Haze asked quietly.

“I’m afraid there’s no way to tell,” Addam sighed. “But I think...”

Haze waited.

“I think we need to start circulating that rumor. That the reason Malos faltered in battle today was because his Driver died. Because of some Aegis quirk, he didn’t return to his Core Crystal completely – and in the heat of battle, as Lora reached for ether across her link with Jin, she resonated with Malos instead.” Addam snorted, “Most of that might even be true!”

Haze nodded, accepting Addam’s decision. “I’ll go relieve Jin, then, if you’ve no further need of me?”

Addam dismissed Haze with his thanks.


	4. One More Snippet: First Time For Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of adult themes present. This chapter deals with Lora's backstory (what little slice of it seen through cutscenes).
> 
> The bunnies demanded another snippet in Drifts, after I'd already posted it. I've learned its wiser not to argue with the bunnies.
> 
> Disclaimer: Big parts of this were influenced by this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968457 . “If that’s what you think of me” is what I accept as headcannon and not even Golden Country is going to change my mind!

The first time Malos channeled ether, he had no Father blasted clue what he was doing.

It was some kind of Titan weapon. No – some kind of monster. He wasn't really sure _what_ it was. In the hazy blur that was his head, Malos could remember indistinct impressions. _Threat_ was clearest. Big, ugly, nasty threat.

Lora had charged up to the threat without fear, working in tandem with Jin. They had moved together seamlessly – so... perfectly. He vaguely remembered being impressed.

Things went wrong when the _thing_ had sprayed... something. Acid? Venom? It was nasty and it took them by surprise. Jin hadn't been able to raise an ether shield in time. The ice Blade had barely been able to protect Lora, getting her clear of the corrosive whatever the hell it was. The liquid as it hit left smoking holes in Jin's armor.

Malos clearly remembered thinking: _If Lora gets hit with that she'll die!_

After that thought the world turned into a jumble. Haze got involved, shielding and healing Jin. Lora doggedly kept the monster away from the two. Malos...

Malos didn't remember what happened next. Just a feeling of being warm.

The next clear thing Malos knew, he was sitting on the ground. His head was bowed, and there were murmurs he recognized as Lora, Jin, and Haze all urging him to take deep breaths. His whole body shook as he complied.

And the first thing Malos said when he could get words out of his mouth was: "You're alright."

"Thanks to you." Lora's warm smile was more radiant than a sunbeam.

"Were you hit?" Haze asked, all business.

Malos shook his head negative. At least he didn't think he'd been hit. If he'd been hit, he would have remembered pain, even if only vaguely. Instead all he remembered was warmth.

"We should get back to camp," Jin half suggested, half ordered. "Addam and Mythra should investigate this area further." _With Siren_ , went unsaid but strongly implied.

"Right," Haze agreed.

"Let's get moving," concurred Lora. The three offered Malos their hands.

Without hesitation, Malos took them.

 

* * *

 

They were eating dinner – surprisingly good dinner considering it was "throw foraged whatevers in the camp pot and cross your fingers" night – when Lora declared, "We're going to need to work on our ether link, Malos."

Malos pulled the bowl away from his mouth before shock could make him choke. Work on... what?

Lora wasn't looking at Malos. She was staring into the fire as though it were a window into another world. She was saying, "Part of the problem with that fight earlier was your ether took me by surprise. As your Driver, that's completely unacceptable of me. It's a failing of myself that is a disservice to you and to my friends and I refuse to let it stand. If it's alright with you, I'd like to start – Malos?"

Oh good. Lora was looking at him now. Malos's expression was as befuddled as he felt.

"You had no idea you channeled ether to Lora. Did you?" Haze asked softly.

Malos gulped, "I did...?"

"Yes you did," Haze affirmed without hesitation. Jin and Lora were both looking stunned. "The link was a little shaky at first. But it was something else to behold once it stabilized. The ether shields you put up around us were spectacular."

"The ether shields I...?" Malos repeated.

"You don't remember?" Jin asked.

Malos wanted to be offended by the question and it's insinuation that Malos was weak. Except... It wasn't weakness Malos felt implied, but concern. Concern for _him_. That was just surreal given it had barely been ten days since Lora had linked to Malos.

(Or whatever the hell had happened. Malos still didn't understand it. He doubted he ever would.)

Turning away from that open concern, Malos stared at dinner. He could feel them waiting. Not pushing; just... waiting.

"Warm," Malos blurted. Swallowing, he spat out the rest of the sentence: "I remember feeling warm. I don't remember the fight."

Lora hummed. "I'm going to ask Addam to pull us off patrols tomorrow so we can give this our full attention. If that's alright with all of you?"

"It's fine," Jin immediately agreed. Haze's answer of, "Of course," came right on Jin's heels.

"Malos?"

The fact Lora was legitimately asking his opinion threw Malos even more. The sharp words that would have been first to his lips were replaced by, "Yeah. Sure."

"Alright. I'm off," Lora stated needlessly. She took her bowl with her to drop it in the dirty dishes bin.

Haze wordlessly moved to sit next to Malos. Jin did likewise. Malos wasn't sure why, but his eyes started watering again. Stupid whatever this was. Crying was something Malos did not know how to do. ...but he legitimately wished he knew how to stop.

 

* * *

 

An hour after breakfast put Malos seated with his legs crossed on a camp blanket in a grassy field. Lora was seated across from him, facing him, likewise sitting with her legs crossed. Haze had a tatting project in her lap as she sat at the blanket's far edge. Jin was sitting on his knees in the grass just beyond the blanket, eyes closed and breathing sleepily deep. If Malos didn't know better he would have sworn Lora's first Blade had gone back to sleep.

"Try and channel ether to me," Lora requested.

She said it so simply. Like doing so was as easy as picking a fallen apple from the ground. Except it... It _wasn't_. Malos's emotions ripped into his concentration. Was he... Was he ashamed?

"Smaller steps," Jin counseled.

"Back to basics," Lora agreed. "Driver and Blade have to reach emotional equilibrium for their link to grow. That's rather hard without knowing much about one another. So. I'll start.

"I was born in a village that doesn't exist any more. The Titan was a small one. One of the ones that drifted around Torna. My mother was a prostitute. My father was her pimp. He was not a very kind man."

Haze snorted at the understatement.

Lora continued: "One day, father managed to get into the castle our village tithed to. Somehow or another he got into the castle vault and stole a Core Crystal. Father took the Core Crystal home with the intent to sell it to the highest bidder. He was rather enthusiastic about his prospects.

"Except I bungled things for him.

"I'm still not sure how I got ahold of the Core Crystal. It was warm, and kind, and the next thing I knew the Crystal wasn't a stone any more. My father was rather upset about it.

"That was the first time Jin protected me. He's been my savior ever since."

"You've saved me as well, Lora," Jin quietly noted.

"Not as many times as you've saved me," Lora countered warmly.

Haze sighed with a giggle, "Not this old argument again."

Lora laughed in delight. Jin cracked a smile.

Malos was... Malos didn't know what he was feeling. Shock? Horror? Laughter? It all seemed to muddle up inside him.

Thankfully, Lora resumed talking: "Jin and I left that village. We didn't look back. Not for a moment. We were determined to make new memories of bright new places and wonderful new people. And tea parties, too!"

If his eyes hadn't been closed, Jin might have rolled them.

"That reminds me," Haze chimed in, "I found a new blend you might enjoy, Jin. It's supposed to be especially soothing for meditation."

"That sounds lovely!" Lora chuckled. "Do you have any preference for teas, Malos?" Lora's warm smile wobbled. "Malos?"

Malos shook his head. He croaked, "No."

Lora closed the gap between them. She reached up and brushed the wetness from his cheeks. Voice soft, soothing, Lora said, "It's alright to be upset about the past. But it's just that: The _past_. I refuse to allow what cannot be changed to define who I am now."

Malos swallowed and nodded. He didn't understand. How could he? This bright openness he had thought was weakness when seen from a distance... It was ice. The ice of a lake which had been frozen for years. It could not be shattered. It could not break. It was so, so impossibly strong.

In comparison, all Malos's powers might as well have been a flimsy breeze.

Lora withdrew her hand and sat back. For a minute, Malos wasn't sure what to do. Lora had shared her past, and he...

Brushing the last wetness off his cheeks, Malos resolved himself to speak.

"The first thing I remember is hate."

Quiet. So quiet. Open and listening and _listening to him_.

Words poured out of Malos. They fell into the quiet between them. He wasn't sure _what_ he said, but he said it. Malos talked, and talked, and talked for so long it seemed like days. More wetness spotted his cheeks and the world got blurry at points. And Lora and Jin and Haze _listened_.

When the words finally dried up, Malos felt like a weight had been heaved off his shoulders.

Lora pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and offered it. Malos took it, drying his tears. ...tears. Hell. That's what that wetness was called, wasn't it?

After a soothing measure of silence, Jin spoke: "He sounds like a psychopath."

"My old Driver?" Malos sniffled the question.

Jin nodded once. His eyes were resolute and full of an emotion Malos couldn't name.

"It explains quite a lot," Haze concurred. She kept her eyes firmly on her stalled tatting project. "Someone for whom all emotion is alien would be incapable of connecting with a Blade. The ether link would be non-existent."

Malos chuckled darkly. "Guess that makes me broken."

" _No._ "

There was such conviction in those two letters, Malos froze. Lora sounded as serious as... as anything Malos knew. As serious as a Siren with their ether cannon locked.

"You were hurt. You were bleeding. But you _are not broken,_ Malos."

Haze concurred with a simple: "All wounds heal. Some take more time than others."

"I will support you," Lora swore. Her hand stretched out to wrap them all in her words. " _We_ will support you. You are our ally now. I hope, one day, you can call us your friends as well. We will _never_ turn our backs on you."

Malos gulped down fresh tears. _I believe her._

Some very old and fractured band around Malos's heart – snapped.

Warmth seeped in. It reached into his aching heart and soothed the worst of the burn inside his chest. A balm... A warm and welcome balm. Malos felt himself falling, loosing himself to that wonderful, breathtaking warmth.

A slim shoulder propped Malos up before he could physically fall. He didn't have to open his eyes to recognize who it was.

"Oh. That's why it feels warm," Malos realized, words not quite a mumble.

It felt warm – because it was Lora.

 

* * *

 

It took until after lunch for Malos to find his equilibrium. The conversation around him was soft and light, just like the picnic meal. The airiness of their chatter was nearly as soothing as Lora's warmth had been. Putting away their litter decided him.

"I want to try that thing again."

"Alright," Lora agreed readily.

"Letting Lora hold your weapon might help," Jin suggested.

Thinking on his sword led Malos to another thought. “I haven’t used any of my abilities since...” He didn’t have to say when. They all already knew.

“You used an ability yesterday,” Haze reminded him gently.

Malos countered, “I can shield like any other Blade. Putting a shield up around others isn’t something I...”

“Can or can’t, it doesn’t change the fact I saw something quite remarkable,” Haze interrupted. There was an edge of steel in her voice that had Malos retreating from the topic rather than engaging. The Blade couldn’t match Jin for shear combat skill, but Haze was damn frightening in her own way when she hardened her resolve.

_If Haze could not be strong, she would have never been Lora’s Blade._

Malos backed away from that thought. Fast. It, like standing up to a determined Haze, was too dangerous to risk.

Taking his weapon in hand, he held it forward. Even with its tip near enough to brush her hair, Lora did not flinch. A breath, then two, more to center himself than anything, and Malos twisted his grip so that his sword’s point faced towards him. His hand was shaking as he held the hilt to Lora.

Lora wrapped both hands around Malos’s sword’s handle with due reverence for the potency of both the weapon and the Aegis Blade to which it was bound. Swallowing down a lump of something, Malos… let go.

Lora squeaked as the weapon’s full weight impacted. Jovially she complained, “It weighs nearly as much as I do!” Drawing it near, she rested the weapon in her lap. Gentle fingers took in every detail; every curve and tip was cataloged with admiration. “Its beautiful.”

Malos fought down an urge to rub the back of his head like some kind of blushing, embarrassed child.

“May I?” Lora requested.

Malos nodded in assent. The novelty of being asked knocked the words from him.

Taking hold of the sword in both hands, Lora rose to her feet with less grace than usual. Lora stepped back onto the grass and out a safe distance. Gauging an imaginary target, she took a stance reminiscent of Jin’s form, and tried to take a swing. The weight of the sword overbalanced her, sending Lora crashing to the ground in a heap of startled laughter. Getting to her feet with no worse wear than bruises she tried again. This time she widened her stance in an effort to keep her center of gravity lower to the ground. Even so she nearly overbalanced again.

“And I thought I’d worked up enough upper arm strength,” Lora giggled, adjusting her grip for another attempt.

The insinuation hit hard enough Malos would have fallen if he hadn’t still been seated.

“You _want_ to use my weapon?”

Lora dropped her attempted stance so swiftly she nearly dropped Malos’s sword. Gaping like beached fish, Lora demanded, “Why on Alrest would I not? You’re my _Blade!_ If I don’t learn how to use your weapon, then how can I learn to stand by your side?”

The logic literally hurt. Part of Malos physically ached; a sharp, deep stab around his heart. The pain was so intense Malos groaned.

“Malos?” Lora called out, concerned. Near him, Jin and Haze were likewise reaching out.

 _I want her to learn_ , Malos realized. The thought was so intense it ached. _I want Lora to use my weapon. I want her to be my Driver. I…_ **I** _want to stand by her side…!_

There was a spitz. There was a sputter. Reaching for his power _hurt_ for a sharp blindingly painful second. Then came –

“Goodness!”

 _Warmth_. Lora’s warmth.

Reaching out to better guide it, Malos threaded his power through the fine strand of an ether bond, through his weapon – and into _his Driver_.

“Now,” Malos asked. His voice nearly broke. “Try _now_!”

Nodding without asking questions, Lora retook that wide stance that had almost worked before. Her warmth reached back through the link. It felt emotionally like her hand was taking his. Working on some instinct Malos barely grasped, Lora shifted her stance at the last moment so that the swing turned into a spin. Darkness typed ether lashed out from the sword in a wave that touched them all.

That _shielded_ them all.

“Monodo Armor,” Malos breathlessly named the impossibility.

Folding her hands over her lap as she examined the patterned ether shielding each of them, Haze was every inch the wise sage. “This is exactly what I saw yesterday.”

Warmth bubbled up in Malos’s chest, replacing the pain. _I can do this,_ he realized. A stunned chuckle escaped him. _I can… do this…!_ The chuckle turned into a roaring laugh.

_I walk with my friends!_


	5. One More Snippet: Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* Okay, bunnies. Fine. Have your one more snippet.

Walking swiftly down the row of tents for the ones she shared with her Driver, Haze took mental stock of the war effort. The loss of the Aegis had not slowed down the Preatorium's efforts of silencing its detractors. They were still proceeding at a steady clip in their march across Alrest. At least three lesser Titians had been sunk, and three more had vanished under suspicious circumstances. Little Titans vanishing was nothing too new; but usually, there was a warning. An influx of displaced persons, a death cry, _something_ to signal an end. Not just a... a _vanishing_. It was as if --

"So. You finally show yourself after betraying me."

...if anyone ever asked, Haze would swear she hadn't meant to eavesdrop. But the tone of a voice colder than Jin's ice slowed her steps.

"I'm not your Blade. Not any more."

_Malos?!_

Malls sounding furious. Close association over the past few months let Haze pick up on the fear undercutting Malos's words.

_Oh sweet Architect._

Malos was confronting his old Driver. The psychopath. Malos was confronting him here and now and _alone_!

There wasn't time to try and get Lora or Jin. Making a split decision, Haze sneaked into the blind alleyway made by adjoining tents. The position was close enough to rip the tent down if that's what it took while still being hidden from view. There was also a crack here in the tent material. Through it Haze could see a little of Malos's back, but nothing of the man he was talking to.

"Don't be absurd. You're a Blade. A _tool_. You belong to me!"

"Now who's being the fool," Malos demanded sardonically. He was a frightfully good actor: If Haze didn't know him as well as she did, she would have never seen his shaking. "I don't belong _to_ anyone!"

 _You belong_ **with** _Lora, Jin, and I,_ Haze wanted to shout in agreement. She wanted to jump in there and throttle Malos's assailant.

Verbal assault was still _assault_. Haze was a healer and a shield and she so wished to execute her duty _immediately_. Only the knowledge that intervening now would be a disservice to Malos kept her still.

"Ah yes. Your declaration that you don't need a Driver with your full powers. Tell me: If that we're really true, why would we be having this conversation now? I am still your Driver, am I not!"

A declaration of possession, not an inquiry. It made Haze squirm.

"That's why you gave Addam Mythra's Core Crystal." Malos laughed darkly, "Oh it all makes _sense_ now! You can't take anyone telling you _no_. Your word is _law_ after all."

"I am the mouthpiece of the Architect. My words are the words of the divine."

A psychopath with a god complex. This could not get any worse.

"Enough!" Malos snapped. "You will stay away from me. You will _never_ touch me. That's all I wanted to say."

"You cannot disobey me, Malos!"

This was going to get so ugly so swiftly. Making another snap decision as Malos's ex-Driver continued to snarl, Haze headed back for the tent's entrance. Mussing her robes and hair a bit she stumbled into the tent.

_Amalthus!_

"There you are, Malos!" Haze gasped breathlessly. Hopefully Amalthus wouldn't realize her breathlessness was from shock. "Excuse me for interrupting. We've been looking all over for you! We've got a request to reinforce the front."

Malos, Architect bless him, recovered quickly. He acknowledged, "Right. On my way."

"We will have to finish our discussion on divine appointment at another date, brother," Amalthus said smoothly. Make that _warned_.

Haze gripped Malos's forearm in a bouncing giggle, as though trying to insure she didn't loose him. ...well. She _was_. Just not in the context of her cover story.

"Thank you for your time, Amalthus!" Haze chuckled.

With the tent flap closed behind then, Haze risked a whisper: "Head for Addam's tent. Don't ask. Just keep moving."

Malos stiffened... but kept moving, thank the Architect. Haze could practically _feel_ Amalthus watching their backs. Unless he was very stupid, he wouldn't follow them. ...wait. He was a psychopath. Of _course_ he would follow them. Minoth. Was Minoth aware of Amalthus's condition? They knew so little about Judecium Flesh Eaters.

"Haze!" Mythra called out, waiving. She eyed Malos, who just gulped and looked away. Those two might never not be awkward around each other. "What brings you around here?"

"I wanted to touch base with you and Addam before we headed out. Something about that report reminded me of the acid spitter," Haze lied smoothly.

Mythra was as sharp as her sword. Her eyes wrinkled in a frown, but she kept up the story. "Yeah, I was thinking that, too. Lora and Jin are already in conference with Addam."

"Excellent!" _Praise the Architect!_

"Come on."

Mythra ushered them ahead of her towards Addam's tent, lingering as though taking a final check of the camp. If she saw any tails that were obvious she made no mention of it.

"Haze, Malos," Addam greeted them absently. His attention was absorbed by a map both he and Jin were looking over.

Lora's smile of hello turned into a frown of concern. "What's wrong?"

"Malos's ex-Driver is in the camp. Amalthus is working with him," Haze got out in a rush. Malos stared at her. "Not here!" Haze hissed.

"Definitely not," Addam agreed. The maps had been shoved aside as soon as Haze had started talking. "You threw them off?"

"With a story about heading for the front," Haze confirmed.

"Then go. Mythra and I will follow you in a moment after we... check a few things," Addam ordered.

Lora nodded, accepting her orders. Linking her arm through Malos's, she did her best to look nonchalant. Jin looking relaxed was a lost cause; then again, Haze had dropped the idea of an acid spitter, so. Jin's usual Jin-ness should be written off by pompous windbags. Malos's default expression of bemusement would have thrown off anybody: Months, now, and he still wasn't used to Lora's brand of sanity.

Getting to the relative safety of six Titan pedes out of camp couldn't come soon enough. The whole way, Haze kept wanting to stare over their shoulders. Her imagination painted Amalthus around every corner.

Jin burst the falsetto calm with an icy demand: "What happened?"

Malos was blurting at the same time, "How much did you overhear?"

"Enough to confirm you are as brave as you are silly," Haze answered Malos first. She bopped his nose. "Telling him to stay away was marvelous. Telling him to stay away without backup was _silly_."

Malos looked away from them all. "I didn't want him to know who my Driver is."

"The whole camp knows who Lora is. I'd be surprised if he didn't know within a minute of arriving," Haze gently corrected.

"You told off your old Driver?" Lora asked. Malos fidgeted, nodding affirmative. "Well done! Though Haze is right. You didn't have to do it alone."

“Yes. I did,” Malos murmured. He took a deep breath. In a rush Malos forced out, “I did because its Amalthus.”

Jin’s sword hand twitched towards his sword’s hilt. Beyond that, he did not react. Haze sighed. Lora _wilted_ , for lack of better descriptor. Reaching up, she brushed the tears from Malos’s cheeks.

Lora whispered, “Oh… Oh, Malos, I’m _sorry_. I knew there was something _off_ about him, but I… I should have known you preferred avoiding him for more reasons than his being a Praetorium insider.”

“You didn’t know. Not your fault,” Malos almost succeeded in shrugging.

“As your Driver, it is my responsibility to help care for you. In that I failed. I --”

Malos reached forward and brushed his fingers across Lora’s cheek. The action was a mirror of Lora’s touch. “You haven’t failed me, Lora,” Malos whispered.

“You think he’ll try and take you back the only way he can,” Jin surmised.

Malos nodded, visibly swallowing down his fear.

“Then we’ll make sure he won’t. Together.”


	6. Snippet Four: Alteration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has serious spoilers for Chapter 7 in it! Beware, beware, ye who wish to be 100% spoiler free!

“Loosing you… Its like one heart… is being ripped in two...”

 _No_ , echoed on endless repeat inside his head. This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not to Lora.

Lora’s face stuck in Jin’s mind the most. Her hand in his was warm. Her eyes were bright and clear. Her face showed only sadness; no pain as her body began to dissolve into ether.

“There is… There is another way,” Jin heard himself say. The thought crystallized inside his mind as he said it. Pressing Lora’s hand to his cheek, Jin leaned forward. He couldn’t say it aloud at any volume louder than a whisper. He just… He _couldn’t_.

Lora smiled. As Jin leaned back, keeping her hand pressed against his cheek, Lora gave her wordless assent. She closed her eyes; bravely was she prepared for death. Squeezing his eyes tight, Jin forced himself to raise his free hand. One clean strike to make it a painless –

A hand grabbed his so tight Jin felt bones in his wrist break. The thrust was arrested with inches to spare before Jin’s fingers pierced Lora’s rib cage.

“Malos,” Lora whispered a relieved final breath.

It was. Some how, some way, Malos had made it to them. He was kneeling by Jin’s side; by Lora’s side, on the edge not blocked by their pittance of cover. Malos looked like he had seen the heaviest parts of the one-sided battle: His armor had chunks missing and he was coated in a fine layer of ash and soot.

Tears were streaming unchecked down Malos’s face. “Shut up,” Malos snarled. “Shut up, both of you, and just,” Malos grabbed Jin’s and Lora’s hands, “just _trust me_!”

Malos pressed their hands to his chest – pressed them against his _Core Crystal…_!

An absence of light stole the world from Jin.

A return of light returned Jin’s breath. Whatever this place was, it was far removed from the war-torn fields of Torna. Here the grass was an emerald green; the water was a sapphire blue. The sky held a breeze strong enough to be comfortable pushing around happy white clouds. Before Jin was a hill crowned by a single tree.

Beneath that tree stood Malos… and one other. A small slim figure Jin knew as well as he knew his own sword.

“Lora! Malos!” Jin called out. They both turned to look at him. They both waited for Jin to join them under the tree. Jin began to ask, “Where…?”

“There isn’t time,” Malos cut Jin off gruffly. “Time flows differently here, but not _that_ differently. We’ve got maybe twenty minutes subjectively speaking before Lora’s body craps out on her. Help me talk her out of being stupid.”

“I’m not the one being stupid,” Lora countered, both hands resting over her heart. Jin tasted bile in his mouth. Architect help him. Jin would still eat Lora if it came to that, but… Lora turning her eyes on him cut off that train of thought for now. “Tell him, Jin! My body’s already breaking down into ether. Nothing can heal that level of injury. Not even Haze.”

Malos rolled his eyes. “Like I keep _trying_ to _tell you_. Not all of it has to be healed! My Core Crystal can take over for your body’s vital functions until your body heals on its own. A couple of decades at _most_!”

“And what would you do without a Core Crystal?” Lora demanded hotly. “I’m not going to allow you to throw your life away when I’m already dead!” Her pleading eyes turned on Jin. “Jin, please!”

“Would it kill you?” Jin demanded of Malos.

“No!” Malos snapped. “I’d keep half my life force; half my Core Crystal. Lora would get the other half.”

“But if it didn’t work and I died anyway? What would happen to you then, Malos?” Lora pressed.

“I’d take back the half I gave you. I’d be fine!” Malos insisted.

“Why do I feel like you’re lying?” Lora asked.

Malos threw his hands in the air, shouting, “Because there isn’t time for me to explain everything! You’re dying and I can’t…!” Malos lowered his arms and sniffled. “I can’t bare the thought of loosing you. You’re the one who helped me fix myself when I was broken. I can’t… I can’t loose you, Lora. Not now. Not like this.”

Lora pressed both hands to her mouth, stunned into silence.

“I can’t loose you like this either, Lora,” Jin admitted softly. Lora turned wide eyes from Malos to Jin.

“Please,” Malos begged, packing the word with all of the sincerity Jin had ever heard the Aegis utter. Malos held out his hand to Lora. Unable to find words to add, Jin held out his hand as well.

Swallowing her tears, Lora took their hands in both of hers. Malos drew Lora’s hand up to his chest. He pressed her slim fingers against his Core Crystal. Closing her eyes, Lora pressed all her weight into connecting with Malos.

Light. Light so dark it was purple poured out of Malos’s Core Crystal. It spread through Malos’s Crystal. Spread down through Lora’s hand. Spread through her arm until it reached her chest. There it began to condense and glow brighter. And brighter. And _brighter_. It grew so bright Jin had to shut his eyes against its brilliance or risk going blind. The light grew brighter still –

Something cracked in Jin’s Core Crystal.

Jin felt the impact hit. Felt that light surge towards him – _No! No! Focus on helping Lora!_ – felt the light touch his heart. Felt it touch his Core Crystal.

Everything _after_ that got… blurry. Indistinct. Jin remembered flashes of –

 _The enemy! You will not harm them! They’re_ **mine** _!_

_Haze! That’s Haze! You won’t touch her you –!_

_Metal? Metal. Safe. Safe? Lora… Lora!_

_Hot… So hot… Burning alive… melting… Is this how ice feels when it melts?_

_Is this how it feels... to die?_

Then nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Lora held on to Jin’s hand so tightly it felt like she might break his fingers. His body thrashed on the bed, arching with the agony he gave voice to. Jin had been screaming for so long his voice was going horse. Haze stood at the foot of the bed, clinging to her staff. Malos was at its head. The Aegis’s eyes were scrunched tight in concentration; his right hand hovered over Jin’s forehead. Light flickered from his palm into Jin’s violently glowing Core Crystal.

The thrashing stilled. The screams quieted. The light dimmed. Jin slumped into oblivion.

“Is he…?” Haze had the courage to ask.

“He’s not dead,” Malos answered breathlessly. Panting with exhaustion, Malos leaned his weight against the bulkhead. Cautiously, he squeezed himself into the small space between Jin’s head and shoulder and the bulkhead wall.

Lora caught Malos’s hand when he blindly reached out. She laced their fingers together with Jin’s.

“He’s out of danger?” Lora asked, her voice raised a hair above a croak. Three days since her brush with death and she still felt rather like a corpse. The steady pulse of half Malos’s Core Crystal in her chest had been all that reminded her those past days were not a dream.

“Yeah,” Malos managed.

“Then take all the time you need,” Lora ordered.

The soft silence of mechanical humming filled the room for a time too long to count.

“Giving you half my Core Crystal wasn’t subtle,” Malos began.

“The light-show was spectacular,” Haze quipped. Malos chuckled ruefully and Lora pulled together a smile. “Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to find you.”

“Its also how the rest of Indol’s troops found us,” Lora remembered. She shook her had softly. “I should have known then something was wrong. Jin had never before...”

“If he hadn’t gone overkill, he would have exploded.”

“Exploded?!” Haze echoed. Lora soundlessly echoed Haze’s gasp.

“We weren’t all on our backs because it was comfy, Lora,” Malos said softly. “They got the jump on us before we woke up. They got a luck shot to Jin’s Core Crystal. Because he was with us as I was giving you half my Core Crystal, some of my energy sort of tried to patch...” Malos trailed off, shaking his head. “Don’t really have the words for it. Hell. I guess you could say he ate some of my life force.”

Haze blinked. “...is that why there are flecks of purple in his Core Crystal now?”

“Yeah,” Malos sighed confirmation. “Jin _was_ a common Blade. His Core Crystal couldn’t handle the kind of energy an Aegis channels. So it evolved. _Jin_ evolved.” Malos’s grin lacked all mirth. “There’s a damn good reason Blades aren’t anything more than Core Crystals during the growth from Blade to Titan.”

“Oh Jin,” Lora fretted, squeezing Jin’s and Malos’s hands.

“He’s going to feel like shit when he wakes up,” Malos warned, squeezing Lora’s hand. “He’s different right down to his Core Crystal. But he’s still _ours_.”

Lora clutched Jin’s hand tight. “Yes,” she swore with conviction. “Jin is still ours.”


	7. Snippet Five: Beginner’s Mistakes

The room swam in front of Jin’s eyes.

Bracing himself against a bulkhead, Jin let drop the bucket he’d been carrying. There was nothing essential in the bucket, Jin reminded himself. Just water mixed with soap.

Haze had taken over as the unnamed ship’s unofficial captain. Her duties were to mother hen Malos, who mother henned Lora, who mother henned Jin. It was an unorthodox command structure. Right now, it worked. And it left Jin doing the most basic of tasks for the foreseeable future, or at least until these blasted episodes _stopped_.

Oh no. This was going to be one of the bad ones. There was already a visible haze in the air; at least the illusion of a haze. The floor kept moving out from under his feet. If it would just stay still, Jin could get to one of the spots with access to moving air. Sometimes a breeze helped settle the episodes. The idea of getting the now empty bucket was tempting, too. Architect help him…

Why did he _itch_?

Shuddering, Jin wrapped his arms around himself. Digging his fingers into his skin wouldn’t help. Jin recalled he had tried that before during one of the less lucid episodes. Lora had effectively glued herself to his side for a week afterwards.

Light danced in front of his eyes. Absently, Jin reached his right hand up to his Core Crystal. Was it… colder than he remembered? Cold. Frozen. Absolute… zero…?

There was no one in the hall with him. The machines here were nonessential. If they broke, they could easily be fixed. Architect, he _itched_!

Taking a stumbling step, Jin forced himself to stand on both feet. It was… surprisingly easy to do. He shuddered as he channeled ether of his element through his body. Ice and wind were opposites yet tied, or so he had told Lora ages ago. Breath control was critical. Breathe in. Feel the ice that was his element in his core. Breathe _out_ –

The spilled water froze so fast it cracked.

Oh. The itch was… Was the ether building up inside his body. Letting it out had felt… better. But he still _itched_. Breathe in again. Breathe out once more –

Jin’s body felt lighter. His balance felt better. _He_ felt better. Again. Breathe once more. In and _out_.

Feeling better than he had in weeks, Jin opened his eyes.

...had the room shrunk?

“Well shit,” Malos’s voice echoed from the other side of a bulkhead that hadn’t been there before. A bulkhead Jin could see through. Malos exaggerated knocking against the new bulkhead. It… Funny. The bulkhead sounded exactly like solid ice when Malos knocked his knuckles against it. Except solid ice was never clear as glass. “The sensors in the section aren’t broke. You really did hit absolute zero.”

Jin managed to pick his jaw up off the floor. “That’s impossible,” he sputtered.

“For a common Blade? Hell yes. For you?” Malos’s grin was brilliant and unafraid. Jin would dare to call it excited. “How’re you feeling?”

Jin closed his eyes, focusing. “Better. Less disoriented,” Jin judged. “Lighter.” Jin hesitated before admitting, “Still itch everywhere.”

“Think I’m starting to see why,” Malos mused, eyeing Jin through the ice. It was hard for Jin to wrap his mind around the fact that was _ice_. “Feel like you need to release any more ether?”

“...I don’t know,” Jin admitted.

Malos nodded. “Stay put. Lora’s on her way down.”

Jin felt a mixed swoop of emotions tangle in his chest. On the one hand, he was a grown Blade. Jin had no wish to be henpecked and fussed over by his Driver; by a girl he had raised like his own daughter. On the other hand, Malos’s excitement was infectious. If this was real – if Jin truly had managed the impossible – then he… He wanted to show off. Jin wanted his Driver to see.

Why was Malos melting a hole through the ice? Architect. It really _was_ ice.

Jin registered, _malosswordblock_ **move**!

Then he registered Malos was on the opposite side of the room, and that absolute zero ice was very, _very_ solid. Ow. How had Malos moved so fast? ...had _Jin_ moved?

“Malos!” Lora censured.

"Relax! Jin isn't made of glass," Malos chuckled, resting his sword against his shoulder.

Lora _humph_ ed at Malos, turning her head away from the Aegis as she brushed past him. She didn't stop moving until she was standing in front of Jin. So very softly, Lora reached out her hand and asked, "Jin?"

Taking her hand in his, Jin leaned into his Driver's touch against his cheek. "I'm alright." Honesty compelled him to add, "I think."

Lora's brow wrinkled with her frown. "You feel like you have a fever."

"He's generating his own ether," Malos stated succinctly.

"What?" Lora looked at Malos, then back at Jin. Her eyes were wide with wonder. No fear -- Architect. Lora _wasn't_ afraid of him. That reality knocked some hidden support back in to place. Lora asked, "You can generate your own ether?"

Jin licked his lips, nervous excitement competing with the all over itch. "I hit _absolute zero_ ," Jin gushed.

Lora's eyes sparkled. "That's amazing!"

Malos audibly rolled his eyes. Teasing, he laughed, "Pay attention, Lora. You're standing in a room full of ice."

"Wha...?" Lora looked around them. Really looked instead of focusing on Jin alone. "That's all ice?" When Malos chuckled affirmative, Lora giggled, "It's so clear! Jin, it looks amazing!"

Jin blushed. It was absolute zero ice, yes, but it was just ice. It wasn't as though he had tried. It had just... happened.

 _So what can I do if I_ did _try?_ Jin wondered.

"Jin?" Lora asked, concerned.

Stepping to one side so that there was a margin of error between himself and Lora, Jin cupped his hands near his chest. Channeling the ether was... hard. Surprisingly hard. It was as if the ether wanted to spread out in a deep freeze rather than center on one spot. Jin needed a pattern -- a form -- a _goal_...!

Trying too hard. A beginner's mistake.

Breathing in, Jin set the pattern in his mind's eye. Breathing out, he let the ether fill that pattern, making it whole. Making it _real_.

Lora's pleased gasp of surprise made Jin's heart soar.

"Tea flowers! Oh, Jin, they're lovely!"

They weren't perfect. The leaves were the wrong shade; the stem was too thin; the flowers themselves weren't clear enough. But the fact Jin had made it -- that he had made it using different clarity and properties of ice -- was the real achievement. It was proof of concept. He could do this. Jin could --

Why did his hands look different? Like his skin was darkening... or ether was solidifying into gloves. Gloves... Why did...?

Wait. Malos had said Jin was generating his own ether. Jin knew his body; at least, he had. Generating his own ether was beyond him. But Malos had also said Jin had... evolved? Yes. That was the term he'd used. So then it went to reason --

Oh... Oh...! Jin really had been trying too hard. It was so simple; just like opening a door. The ether that had been building up inside him, that omnipresent _itch_ \-- flowed and eased and Jin felt the world _click_.

Erk. What had happened to his armor? This -- well. Bare chested _felt_ like the correct configuration. Did he... have nothing covering his back, either? At least his shoulders, arms, pelvis, legs, and feet were all armored. More heavily armored at that. The black material shot through with ether lines brought to mind an insect caprice, hard and hardened against foes. Gloves were new; the material didn't seem to impact his tactile feel, though.

...there was a pair of somethings moving along his lower back roughly where his tailbone was. That was -- Jin gulped. That was a frightfully new sensation.

"Beautiful," Lora breathed.

Startled, Jin looked away from his new/same/different hands. The air was filled with diamond dust ice. Standing in it, Lora looked... magnificent.

"Stabilizer fins!" Malos cackled out of context.

"What?" Jin asked in the same breath as Lora.

Malos cackled, advancing on Jin with all his open glee for an honest fight. "You've got stabilizer fins, Jin. Now why ever would you need --"

The world slowed. Jin saw Malos's sword swing coming down slowly. So slowly. All Jin did was step to one side.

"Those!" Malos finished, his swing back at normal speed. He blinked. Lora jumped.

"Here?" Jin spoke up tentatively.

From the opposite side of the room.

"All I did was take a step," Jin admitted meekly.

Malos's grin had teeth. "This is gonna be _interesting_."

Jin decided taking another step now was a _very good_ idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not shown by this snippet: Jin being able to return to his usual white attire, per canon.
> 
> Also not shown: Malos and Jin chasing each other around the Monoceros like a pair of elementary school kids playing tag. ;P


	8. Snippets Six: Oh Ye Be Merry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Chapter 8 start here! Beware, beware, ye who wish 100% spoiler free!
> 
> And if it wasn't obvious by now, all of this backstory is personal headcanon.

The world drifted in and out.

"Here!"

"Oh Architect. It's...!"

"He's burning up."

"What did they do to him? The poor thing."

"No time. The distraction won't last much longer. We need to _go_."

The world bounced in-between the drifting. Hot. Cold. Hot again. Cool cloth pressed against the heat. The vision of an angel swam in and out of focus. The angel tag teamed with a pair of horned demons. As the drifting continued he could feel what hurt more and what hurt less. Nothing didn't not hurt... but his chest hurt the worst. It felt like something was crawling out of his chest. It hurt so much.

"What. The hell. Is that."

They were going to kill him. He had seen what happened to the others. They were going to kill him, too. He was an abomination. He'd never know what that word meant until he was one.

 _Maybe death doesn't hurt,_ he wondered.

And was surprised he could wonder. He could think? He could... think.

Anger coiled around his thoughts like the emotion were a living thing. The anger didn't stop the pain. It... muffled it. Maybe he was getting used to being an abomination, and this was how abominations thought?

"You're no abomination, Mikhail," purred the anger given voice. "The abominations are the people who did this to you. You're _you_ , Mikhail. You're you."

The anger turned into something soft and fluffy as it spoke. He couldn't remember ever feeling anything like it. Whimpering, he wanted to lean into the fluffy softness until he disappeared in it. This was safe. This was as safe as a war orphan would ever get.

The fluff gently wrapped him up so he was comfortable. "You're safe with us."

Us...?

"How is he doing?"

"Got him stable. I find whoever did this, I will kill them. Don't. Don't give me the speech. Whoever did this is _evil_. Doing it to a volunteer -- hell. You can't change crazy. Doing this to a kid?" The voice choked off in a snarl.

"I was going to suggest bringing the guilty party or parties in for interrogation. See if there was a way to undo the havoc wrought."

"There's no _undoing_ this. All I can do is try and... Che. He's damn lucky it was a less potent Blade Core Crystal used. Anybody legend class would have fried Mikhail right out of his head. As it is..."

"Yes?"

"You remember the old horror stories about the monsters from Morytha?"

"I remember someone _telling_ those stories to frighten a misbehaving bunch of snot nosed brats. You never have been good at less than overkill." A pause. "Wait. Those stories...?!"

"Are based off data Father stuffed up here. Yeah. Those monsters were early Core Crystal designs. Prototypes Father studied damn carefully to see how and where they went wrong, and how they could become Blades as we know them. Whoever did this took Father's work -- and went _backwards_ with it."

"...I may be ill."

"You see why I want the responsible bastard's head on a pike?"

"Quite."

There was a shift in the weight by his side. Cool hands pressed against his forehead, soothing the burning ache away.

"You've always been strong, Mikhail. We're here. We'll help you be strong again."

 

* * *

 

 

Mikhail came-to with a splitting headache, a monster called hunger gnawing on his insides, and an ache reaching to his bones.

He felt better in those few precious moments than he ever had in his entire life.

"Oh my goodness!" fluttered a familiar voice from somewhere above and to his right. Feet tapped on a metal floor. "Jin! Malos! Haze! Mikhail's awake!" The feet rushed back. "Go slow, Mikhail. Easy does it. You've been gone a long time."

Mikhail managed to sit up on his own. Doing so made the world spin and his headache worse. Blinking the spots out of his eyes, Mikhail forced himself to look around. Vaguely, the person next to him looked like they had a halo. That was just the spots, though.

...except maybe not? The person next to him was Lora. Lora was dead. Mikhail looked at his hands. Nope. Not dead. So...

There was a rock in his chest. A glowing rock. A glowing, burning -- _get it out!_

Cool hands grasped his own with strength that wasn't human; kept him from digging into his chest to get the stone out. Those same strong hands pulled him so that Mikhail had to rest his head against a cool chest. A heart beat strong and steady and the world narrowed, compacted, slowed down. The panicked rush in his ears gave way to the soothing sound of someone gently and incessantly telling him, "Its going to be alright, Mikhail. It's going to be alright."

"Better?" a cool voice asked a long time later.

Mikhail nodded yes. Hesitated, feeling the invader pulse in his skin. Lip wobbling Mikhail shook and whimpered, "No."

"Hey," a much deeper voice interjected. "Think you can be brave for a minute more and let me take a look?"

Mikhail sniffled. Looking at the speaker, he found it was Malos. That shouldn't have been possible. Malos was Torna. Torna was dead. But there he was, alive and standing next to Haze and Lora and --

Belatedly, Mikhail realized it was _Jin_ whose chest he was pressed against.

"It's alright," Jin soothed him, running careful fingers through Mikhail's hair.

Rubbing his eyes dry, Mikhail sat up straight, even when all he wanted to do was stay leaning against Jin. Mikhail had known Jin was the strongest man in Torna. That Jin was a hero. He'd never guessed Jin could make for such a comfy pillow. Embarrassed by how much of a baby he was acting like, Mikhail kept his eyes down.

"Hey," Malos said again. The Aegis put his hand next to Mikhail's knee. "Would you look at me?"

Mikhail managed to look at Aegis Malos.

"You have _nothing_ to feel ashamed about," the Aegis said. He said it so strongly Mikhail had to listen. "We're Torna. We stick together. That includes being a shoulder to cry on. So. Enough looking at your feat. Head up. Eyes forward. We'll get through this together."

Mikhail swallowed. He nodded affirmative.

"Here's the hard part," the Aegis sighed. "I need to check your Core Crystal. May I?"

His...? But Mikhail was a human. Humans didn't have Core Crystals.

"You can't take it out," Mikhail guessed. It burned in his chest and he wanted to scratch it out so badly.

"No," Malos confirmed. "When you're old enough to understand all the gorey details, I'll explain why." He held his hand up and out like an offering. "May I?"

Mikhail swallowed his fear as best he could. These were his _heroes_. He... he couldn't look cowardly in front of them. Gathering his courage, Mikhail nodded assent. Malos brought his hand up to Mikhail's chest. Mikhail watched, eyes growing ever so slightly wide, as Malos covered the stone with his palm. The Aegis didn't touch it, though. Just held his hand over it.

 _Warm_ washed through Mikhail. It radiated from the stone in his chest; followed the flow of his blood through his body. Warm and gentle and so comforting. Like being given a big hug all over. The warmth left him feeling lightheaded and sleepy.

“We’ve got you,” Jin murmured, letting Mikhail rest against him.

The warmth stayed when Malos pulled his hand away.

“You’re over the worst of what was done to you,” Malos stated. His voice was soothing. “That’s the good news. The bad news is its going to take you a while to get back into homeostasis. You’re probably going to drop dead asleep at times, maybe even without warning. Your body needs sleep to recover.”

Mikhail’s stomach roared.

Lora and Haze hid matching giggles behind their hands, sharing speaking looks. Malos chuckled, shaking his head. Jin – the Hero of Torna of all people! – ruffled Mikhail’s hair. Mikhail wanted to bury his face in a pillow and never come out.

“You’re also going to have a much larger appetite than usual. Don’t apologize if you can’t finish breakfast, though.” Malos lowered his voice in a conspirator's whisper. “Haze cooked.”

“Are you insinuating I can’t cook?” Haze demanded. The great Blade had both hands on her hips and cheeks puffed out in a fuming pout.

“Not hard to insinuate a fact,” Aegis Malos stated.

Letting off a steam kettle hiss of furry, Haze… punched the back of Malos’s head. Malos rolled with the hit, deflecting most of it. But he… laughed. Malos laughed about being punched.

Mikhail decided that heroes were just plain weird.


	9. Snippet Seven: Guide to Getting One’s Footing

They figured out what Mikhail’s element was when they found him sleeping in a corridor that had been closed for maintenance. It was _supposed_ to have been closed. The emergency light strip had gone dead and they hadn’t been able to find a suitable replacement part yet at any of the ports. After hours of fruitless searching of everywhere else, Lora had discovered the closed corridor’s door was wide open. They wasted a good hour standing at the door going around in circles of who thought whom had or hadn’t done what.

Mikhail had wandered out of corridor somewhere around Jin saying Lora had said Malos had said Haze had said –

“Um…?” Mikhail blinked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“ _Mikhail!_ ” the quintet of adults gasped, descending on the child as one. Malos got to Mikhail first by dint of his size and knowing how to use his elbows.

“Are you alright?” Lora demanded from over Malos’s shoulder.

“Uh-huh,” Mikhail confirmed, gamely putting up with Malos looking him over.

“You weren’t at the mess,” Jin needlessly pointed out.

“We got worried,” Haze tacked on.

“I was going to the mess, but I got sleepy on the way there. The lights in the hall were too bright but the lights down that way,” Mikhail pointed down the pitch black corridor, “were just right. There’s a bunk down at the middle end of the hall that looked really nice to sleep in.”

“Was it comfy?” Lora asked.

Mikhail shook his head. “Not as comfy as it looked. Do you...” Mikhail hesitated, looking at Malos. “Do you need to check,” the boy’s voice dropped to a whisper, “ _it…_?”

“Yeah,” Malos confirmed.

Mikhail hesitated. As if he thought he could pretend it never happened if he just moved fast enough, Mikhail ripped off his layered scarf. The revealed and reviled not-so-foreign Core Crystal glowed in bright relief against his pale skin. Understanding why Mikhail wished for haste, Malos immediately reached out both physically and with his power as an Aegis. Mikhail winced as he braced himself.

Gingerly, he opened one eye. This… wasn’t how checks usually went since that first melancholy time weeks (months?) ago. No sharp pain; no having to endure a feeling of _search_ ; no echoing not-a-stomach rumble. Just a warm and comforting hum seemingly within his bones.

Malos withdrew his hand. And banged said hand against his forehead.

“You’re _darkness element_ ,” Malos declared.

“Oh,” came the sigh _en mass_ from the adults.

“ _Right_ in front of my _freaking_ nose,” Malos grumbled. Standing, Malos offered Mikhail his hand. “Come on, Mik’. Let me show you how to fill that second stomach of yours.”

Hesitating for a moment, Mikhail took Malos’s hand. The scarf slipped unnoticed from his grip.

 

* * *

 

 

It hit Mikhail with the abruptness of a grounded circuit: He hadn’t worn the scarf all year.

Putting the borrowed wrench down first so he didn’t drop or damage it, Mikhail sat down. He hadn’t worn the scarf. For a _year_.

Mikhail knew exactly where the scarf was, too. It was hanging from the armor mannequin in his room. It just had… slipped his mind to wear it.

Haze only wore something like a scarf to disguise her Core Crystal when she went outside the ship for shopping or to help on missions. Malos wore a plate of armor over his Core Crystal to disguise it whenever he hit land for the same reason as Haze. Jin wore his mask when he was on shore, too. Lora’s armor covered her half of Malos’s Core Crystal… when she wore full armor. Lora only wore full armor for training and for missions. Her half of the Core Crystal had been mistaken for an accessory so many times a disguise would have drawn _more_ attention to her, not less.

Absently, Mikhail’s fingers traced it. Its shape had changed in the five years he’d had it. It had gone from a rough diamond shape, to a softened oval, to something that looked like a broccoli top. It seemed to have settled into… a fan? That’s what the shape reminded Mikhail of, anyway.

_Could I have gotten used to it?_

Mikhail dismissed the thought as soon as he had it. This thing in his chest was an invasion. A defilement by the stupid Praetor. Mikahil could _never_ get used to it.

...could he?

Lora had gotten used to having half Malos’s life beating beside her heart. Malos had gotten used to being Lora’s Blade. Jin had gotten used to being – well. _Jin_. Haze had gotten used to all of them and their “little quirks”, she called it. Like Haze herself didn’t have enough idiosyncrasies to sink an Ardanian cruiser.

That thought led to others he would have never had before: Lora was silly airhead sometimes who drifted off after passing storm-clouds looking for rainbows. Malos was a disorganized larger than life walking disaster area sometimes who flat _needed_ someone following after him to make sure his head stayed on straight. Sometimes Jin was sad, and sometimes he was amazing, and sometimes the hero was… just a person.

Mikhail pressed his left hand against his mouth to better keep the scream locked tight. A scream of _what_ , he wasn’t sure. Not horror. Not elation. Just… Architect. Running his right hand’s fingers over the Crystal repeatedly, Mikhail couldn’t figure out what he felt. Normal? This _couldn’t_ be normal! But somehow… it had become normal.

This Core Crystal in his chest encapsulated Mikhail’s life. It… was his.

This _was_ Mikhail’s normal.

 

* * *

 

Watching Jin and Malos spar was electrifying.

Mikhail stayed well out of their way. As in – back on their still unnamed ship, watching with a pair of binoculars, well out of their way. The duo rarely went all out like that, though. Those kinds of sparing matches sort of made an impact on the local terrain. ...like turned a Temperentian cliff into a Temperentian _beach front_. (Now _that_ had been a match!)

Today the duo were keeping it to a dull roar in the ship’s unused large Titan vehicle hanger. That’s what the place was formally called on the blueprints, anyway. Everyone called it That Room. Everyone spent time in That Room at some point or another. Mostly, they used it to train with sharp pointy objects. Sometimes they ran drills that ranged from simple to terrifying.

Both Jin and Malos were using their weapons. Haze was standing in as judge, using her ability to insure the two male Blades channeled only enough ether to keep their injuries to bruises. Even then, their speed… Their… Mikhail didn’t have the words. Their _dance_ was…

It was beautiful. Painful, but so hauntingly beautiful.

 _I wish I could…_ Mikhail shook the silly thought loose. _Get real, Mik. You wouldn’t be able to match them in a hundred years. You don’t have any weapons, anyway._

“Time!” Haze called the match.

Malos and Jin relaxed from their ready stances. Jin chuckled something Mikhail couldn’t catch. Malos replied by walking over and counting coup by punching Jin in the shoulder. The Aegis boisterously declared, “You’re damn right you’ve got kitchen duty for the month. Hey Mik’!”

Mikhail startled, almost falling out of his spot in the rafters. It was too dark up here for the others to – oh. Right. Mikhail kept forgetting Malos was darkness element, too. He _could_ see just as well as Mikhail. Probably better being an Aegis and all.

“Y-Yeah?” Mikhail called back.

“Get your ass down here. Your turn on the mat,” Malos ordered.

...ugh. Sparing practice.

Working his way down, Mikhail sighed. Sparing practice was important. Being the size of a twelve year old wasn’t going to protect him from any goons who got it into their heads to be idiots. Being _ten_ certainly hadn’t stopped the Praetor from screwing with him.

(Mikhail quietly promised to put ten gold in the swear jar. Haze would know if he’d even _thought_ about swearing and didn’t pay up. _She would know_.)

He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was… There was something about sparing practice that just didn’t _click_. Mikhail learned the moves and knew how to execute them; the adults had made certain of that. But there was just one step Mikhail was missing. One key piece of information that kept turning his steps into fumbles and his practice sword’s slices into abysmal misses against moving targets. Stationary targets, Mikhail could handle. But any goon dumb enough to stand still to be stabbed would also be smart enough to just let Mikahil go, so.

Mikhail gave a sloppy excuse for a salute as he hit the mats. “Reporting as – oomph!”

Malos’s sword was _heavy_.

And right on the heels of that thought: Why had Malos tossed Mikhail _Malos’s weapon_? ...amending thought: Why had Malos tossed Mikhail Malos’s _dissolving_ weapon? In barely any time flat, Mikhail had gone from holding a ninety pound sword to holding a two ounce weapon Crystal.

"No practice sword today, Mik'," Malos said seriously, almost sadly. "You're going to spar me either bare handed or with your weapon.

Err. " _My_ weapon? Malos..." Mikhail started to protest. His words trailed off as Malos's weapon Crystal fizzled in Mikhail's hand. Attention drawn to the Crystal, Mikhail watched as it... dissolved into nothing.

Double erk. Lora was going to be _ticked_ \--

"Hey."

Blinking, Mikhail looked back at Malos. And blinked again at how the darkness of the room focused in on Malos. An Aegis didn't _need_ to manipulate the local ether, so why was he...? Wait. Why was Malos's Core Crystal glowing?

A second weapon Crystal dropped from the Core Crystal into Malos's waiting hand. The weapon Crystal drifted about an inch away before igniting with dark ether. Too fast to follow, the ether had solidified back into Malos's sword.

...wait. "Blades can do that?" Mikhail blurted.

Jin and Haze exchanged the same kind of _Architect damnit_ look they had two years ago. It was a classic look, really. Only got pulled out when Mikhail figured out another thing about his Core Crystal that no one had thought to tell him because, to them, it was obvious. Mikhail actually kind of liked that look. It reaffirmed they though of him as an equal, not a tag-along discarded experiment.

"Yeah. Blade Eaters, too," Malos said simply.

Mikhail brushed his fingers over his Core Crystal. Malos was _probably_ guessing. Maybe. Then again, Malos had tuned Mikhail's Core Crystal so often, a guess from him was as good as a conviction. Which meant the next question was: "How?"

Malos shrugged. "That's like asking how do you move a limb. You just _do_."

Mikhail frowned, bowing his head, holding his hand still over his Core Crystals. _You just do, huh?_ he thought. _You just think, I want my weapon --_

His Core Crystal brightened. Ether smashed into his system, making Mikhail gasp. His whole body felt tight and tingly and braced. The power flowed through him, condensing into his Core Crystal. At some point when his Crystal glowed bright enough to be a small star, Mikhail absently realized he was floating. And then he dropped back to his feet and --

 _Two_ weapon Crystals fell into his hands.

"Two?" Haze echoed the confusion Mikhail felt.

No... Mikhail didn't feel confused by the oddity that was two weapon Crystals. It _made sense_ , somehow. Like it was just right. The ether was packed tight inside both Crystals. One Crystal in each hand, Mikhail closed his fists tight enough he could feel the Crystals start to crack.

The weapon Crystals glowed brilliant starlight black. Ether solidified into bracers around his fists that in turn opened into --

Fans.

Feather covered _fans_.

Giggling, Mikhail gave the paired feather fans an experimental flick. The feathers fluttered in the breeze made by their passing. The balance was... perfect. Just right. Just the --

Just the piece Mikhail had been missing.

Still giggling, Mikhail moved from playing to _moving_. Flips, jumps, blocks against invisible foes, blocks against --

Malos. Who was in Mikhail's face. Grinning like a loon. Who let Mikhail push him back and who let Mikhail get ready for an actual fight.

Giggles turning into laughter, Mikhail danced.


	10. One More Snippet: The Feather Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bunnies demanded a young!Mikhail snippet. I was felled by cute.

Malos had a short list of facts he preferred not to advertise to anyone be they friend and certainly not if they were foe. How much he cried was down near the bottom of the list. How much Lora affected him was at the top. Case in point: Lora had been trying to cook lunch for everyone. The knife had slipped during an inattentive moment when Lora had been trying to dice vegetables and read a cookbook simultaneously. The resultant gash to Lora’s forearm had already been dealt with by Jin. The resultant gash to Malos’s forearm, though…

Yeah. The longer Malos could pass it off as coincidences, the better. The synchronicity of his Core Crystal halves would be found out eventually. He just… didn’t want to have that conversation. Ever.

The door to the med bay opened before Malos could toggle it. Malos was halfway to managing an, “Erk?” when Mikhail’s diminutive form registered. The kid had been with them for thirty years now but he barely looked past the age of twelve. Right now, he _really_ looked like he was twelve. His expression was stubborn fury married by bandaged scrapes. His posture was slumped with shame but his steps were stiff with anger. The boy didn’t even register Malos’s presence; just stormed passed like all there was to the world was his own angst.

 _The hell?_ Malos wondered eloquently.

Haze’s sigh drifted from inside. Giving Mikhail’s stiff back a final look, Malos headed inside. He jerked his thumb in the direction Mikhail had gone in silent question.

“He won’t tell me,” Haze answered. She paused in putting away the medical supplies as her sharp eyes picked up how Malos was holding his arm. Haze’s gaze narrowed into a thoughtful glare.

“Maintenance?” Malos offered. Father. It sounded pathetic even as he said it.

“I’m going to find a matching cut on Lora,” Haze stated.

Malos looked at the floor. The silence was answer enough for Haze.

“Once is an oddity. Twice is coincidence,” Haze intoned.

“Third time enemy action. Yeah, yeah, I know,” Malos grumbled. Haze grabbed a hold of his injured arm, ignoring Malos’s protest of, “Ow! Witch.”

“These matching injuries have something to do with your having given Lora half your Core Crystal,” Haze guessed.

Like Malos had feared: _Not_ a conversation he wanted to have. But given Haze shared not only Lora’s looks but her tenacity, Malos capitulated. “The two halves of my Core Crystal swap information constantly. Its why any time Lora gets hurt, I feel it. Vice versa.”

“Thirty years,” Haze pointed out.

“I’ve been careful.”

“You’ve been holding back.”

“Like I said. I’ve been care-- ow!” Malos hissed. Humans really were stronger than he’d given them credit for if they had to put up with stinging policies like this regularly.

“You know I’m going to tell Lora,” Haze warned.

“Give me a head’s up when so I can be off ship,” Malos requested.

“Absolutely not. You trust Lora with your life, Malos, but you haven’t allowed that trust to be returned.”

“No, I just suck at awkward conversations.”

“You absolutely do,” said Lora.

From the med bay’s open door.

 _Oh shit,_ Malos had time to think.

Lora moved before Malos could. She crossed the space from the door to Malos in three easy strides. Jin followed in Lora’s wake; no drifts of diamond dust, so he wasn’t upset. Much. That scowl looked disappointed. Disappointed in who was –

Lora grabbed Malos’s injured arm and twisted the bandage off. “Ow!” Malos complained. He registered a louder complaint of, “ _Ow!_ ” when Lora yanked his injured arm up against her own no longer bandaged injury. The two injuries were identical. A dramatic moment past so that everyone could get a long, clear look. And then Lora let go of Malos’s arm.

“You need to stop holding back.”

Malos did a double-take. “Huh?” he managed.

“When you spar with Jin. You need to stop holding back,” Lora stated. It wasn’t quite an order. Then again, Lora never _ordered_ anything. She gave suggestions and helped to consider suggestions from others, but she never ordered.

“Lora’s right, Malos,” Jin concurred.

Malos blinked. Twice. “I stop holding back, Lora could get hurt,” Malos pointed out.

“The battlefield has already proven it won’t allow for such sentiments,” Jin countered. The thought, _Like it did when I almost ate her_ , was written plain across his face.

“What you and Jin accomplished during your spar in Temperentia was amazing. And, terrifying as the thought is, its the kind of power we need to protect ourselves,” Lora reasoned.

“Or are you saying you were holding back then as well?” Haze inquired.

“No,” Malos admitted. Doing so would have been an insult to Jin, especially when Jin had specifically requested the spar so as to get a better handle on his Absolute abilities. Even so, because of Malos, Lora had been covered in bruises from that bout.

 _Is that when she figured it out?_ Malos wondered.

Lora smiled softly as she reached to rest her hand on Malos’s cheek. Their ether link radiated warm acceptance and an even warmer trust.

 _I trust you with my life. I trust you with the life of my friends_ , Lora was saying.

Leaning in to Lora’s warmth, Malos sighed. “I’ll stop holding back.”

The warmth of their link radiated thanks louder than words could.

* * *

 

Lora’s idea of _not holding back_ was something that needed to be reevaluated. Guh. Lora’s heart was in the right place – and _yes_ , Malos could see where she was coming from. As their Driver, having a clear understanding of her Blades’ abilities was important. Wanting to try and channel those abilities herself was…

Yeah, okay, it _made sense_. Lora wasn’t the kind of woman to keep out of a fight her friends were in no matter how dangerous it got. But there were limits to the amount of ether a human body could channel. Jin’s Absolute abilities _broke_ that limit just going active.

Rubbing at his aching chest, Malos headed into the quiet of engineering. There were projects in here that needed doing. So long as he was doing them, no one was going to bother him. Besides, they all needed a bit of time to get their heads on straight after seeing Lora bleeding from ether overcharge.

 _If she hadn’t had half my Core Crystal, she’d be dead,_ Malos knew. And that fact hurt near as bad as the echo of Lora’s injuries.

What hurt even worse was that Lora was going to see today, not as an impossibility, but as a failing in herself. He could hear her now: _It is a Driver’s duty to match the skill of their Blade._ Attitudes like that did not take into account Malos was relatively sure Jin’s powers _broke physics._ Or at least bent local physics into pretzels.

_...do I hear someone crying?_

Stopping, Malos listened closely. The sound was soft like the tears were being held in by brute willpower. Still, the sound was wrenching. Someone was down here in engineering and was _hurting_ and it wasn’t Malos. It wasn’t Lora, Jin, or Haze: Lora was in the med bay; Jin was by her side; Haze wouldn’t come down to engineering on a dare. Which just left…

“Mikhail,” Malos breathed.

The thirty-looking-like-twelve year old curled up tighter into a pained ball. One of the engineering projects on Malos’s to-do list was on the floor with Mik’. Flecks of grease were on Mikhail’s hands and arms, testifying to the fact Mikhail had been working on it before shoving it aside.

Seeing Mikhail hurting was in its own way worse than seeing Lora hurting. When Lora hurt, Malos knew it, and knew Jin or Haze would have the answer on how to help. When Mikhail hurt, Malos _didn’t_ know it, and it was up to Malos to guess on how to help. Malos really did not want to guess when it came to Mikhail. He loved the kid. Not with the same intensity as he loved Lora, or Jin, or Haze, but the feelings were similar. Mikhail was someone Malos cared for. He was like a… A little brother.

Malos sat down next to Mikhail. Gently, ready to pull back if Mikhail needed space, Malos brushed his fingers through Mikhail’s hair. Their little Blade Eater stiffened.

“Hey,” Malos murmured.

Mikhail stayed still like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

“I’ll listen if you want to talk,” Malos promised quietly.

After a long time of tense quiet, Mikhail asked, “You’re not mad? ‘bout me working with your tools?”

“No. I’m not mad. Just be sure to put them back where you got them,” Malos requested, smiling faintly.

“M’kay,” Mikhail agreed a little too readily.

“You really like engineering, huh?”

“I like fixing broken things. Maybe if I get good enough, I can fix whatever’s broken with mm--!”

Even slapping his hands over his mouth to shut himself up was insufficient to keep Malos from guessing how Mikhail’s sentence ended.

“Like I said, Mik’. I’ll listen if you want to talk.”

For a long, lengthy time, silence rang through engineering. As the minutes drifted past, Mikhail slowly, slowly, relaxed. The whole while Malos kept running his fingers through Mikhail’s hair in non-verbal reassurance that he was still there.

“I itch sometimes,” Mikhail began quietly. Malos had to close his eyes to better listen the barely breathed words were so soft. “Not because I haven’t had a bath, or because I’m sweaty. I just… itch. Like there’s something I’m supposed to do. Something that should be really easy, but… But its _not_. Its easier to ignore the itch when I distract myself with engineering and math and stuff. ...its been getting worse.”

“Bad enough it hurts?” Malos asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. It was a tie which thought was worse: That Mikhail had been hurting and not said anything because of his pride. Or that Malos hadn’t realized Mikhail was hurting.

“Its supposed to be easy!” Mikhail blurted in a burst of tears. “Its supposed to be _easy_! I don’t even k-know what _it_ is! Just… just its supposed to be so _easy_ and I can’t… I _can’t…_ I…!”

Malos scooped Mikahil into his arms, tucking Mikhail’s head against his, so fast Mikhail barely registered the change of position. Hot tears were damned behind pride. Mikhail’s body shook as he forced himself not to cry.

“Mik’. This because whatever it is hurts?”

Mikhail shook his head negative. “I’m just… angry,” Mikhail bit out. “I’m not a baby. I look like it, but I’m _not_. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t throw a temper tantrum just ‘cause I’m f-frustrated.”

“True enough. There are better ways to work off being pissed,” Malos concurred, a little knot of worry loosening in his gut. From the sound of it this was something Malos could handle. “What happens when you try and work out the itch?”

Mikhail went mulishly quiet. Malos waited. At length there was a quiet embarrassed mutter.

Malos bit his cheek to keep from laughing. This wasn’t funny. It really, really wasn’t, but… Oh jeeze. Malos could absolutely handle this.

Mikhail gave a concerned squeak when Malos got to his feet. Malos rubbed Mikhail’s back gently. “Relax. There’s something I want to show you.”

Fortunately, it wasn’t far away.

Mikhail looked at the bulkhead. Then, exasperation clear, Mikhail looked Malos in the eye. _A dented bulkhead? Really?_

“Notice anything interesting about the dent pattern?” Malos asked.

Humoring him, Mikhail took a second longer look. “Its kinda tall?”

“Its exactly as tall as Jin.”

“Its exactly as tall as…?!” Mikhail’s eyes went wide as it clicked.

“He ran into so many bulkheads while he was trying to get a good handle on his speed. Left dozens of dents like this all over the Monoceros. Left a couple of me-shaped ones, too,” Malos confided, chuckling. Those were good memories for Malos. ...maybe not as much for Jin.

“But… But I blew a hole in the wall!” Mikhail blurted.

“Jin left a couple of holes, too. We patched those, same way we patched the hole in That Room.” Malos couldn’t stop a laugh, “And there I’d been thinking Jin wasn’t fessing up to a new Art.”

“A new… Art…” Mikhail echoed slowly. His breath caught in his throat.

“A second set of eyes might help,” Malos gently suggested.

Swallowing, Mikhail allowed it.

* * *

 

Mikhail stood on the mats facing Malos. Eyes closed in concentration, Mikhail tried to find that – that _way_ that let the itch stop being so itchy. He’d sort of found it once on accident. Then it had blown up and…

“I’m tougher than a bulkhead, kid,” Malos chided. He didn’t sound annoyed. He probably _was_ annoyed for having to deal with the little baby fussing over nothing.

_Stop it! Stop thinking like that! Malos wouldn’t be here if he thought it was nothing!_

His frustration boiled almost as bad as the itch. Mikhail wanted to take all his frustrations, stuff them in a ball, and throw them away. It just… Mikhail knew all he had to do was _reach_ but –

The itch sizzled in his hands. There… There! That was what it had started as before! It sizzled like static charged cat fur as it prickled down his fingertips. Just hold out and –

_ka- **foomph**_

Startled witless, Mikhail fell back onto his ass. Flicks of black danced in his vision and he was gasping for breath. “That wasn’t like last time,” he managed to gulp.

Malos hummed. Taking two steps forward, he bent down on one knee. The Aegis ran considering fingers over a spot on the mat. Without looking up at Mikhail, Malos asked, “How’s your ether levels?”

Mikhail had to take a second to _feel_. Holding a hand to his Core Crystal helped to focus his attention on the Blade part of his body. Checking usually left him feeling varying degrees warm depending on how much ether he’d stored up. Checking now, though, made Mikhail’s stomach growl. Heh. That was why they’d called it his second stomach back when he’d actually been ten.

_Wait a second…_

“Take your time and get a charge back, Mik’. And get your weapons,” Malos directed.

“My weapons?” Mikhail asked, doing as bid. Feeling the ether flow always reminded him of watching a dance. Sort of watching. Kinda hard to watch when it was all tactile and emotional feeling rubbing up against Mikhail’s senses. Which – well – distracting, But fun distracting.

“Yeah. Looks like you’re having the same problem channeling ether into Arts that I did.”

Channeling Arts… That was a thing Blades could do instinctively. No wonder he’d been feeling so frustrated over it. As a Blade Eater, anything a Blade could do, Mikhail could do, too. Mikhail just had to consciously learn how to do what his body had already figured out.

_Wait another second!_

“ _You_ had trouble channeling Arts?” Mikhail blurted.

Malos had a smile that was neither happy nor sad and his eyes were looking past Mikhail. “Yeah. I had trouble.” Malos shook his head to get his attention back on the here and now. “You were in the camp when Lora became my Driver, right?”

“Addam said it was because your old Driver died,” Mikhail remembered.

Malos snorted, “I _wish_ he had. Truth is no one knows what severed my resonance with that bastard. Between my ex-Driver atrophying the ether link and whatever snapped the resonance, I couldn’t use any of my abilities. It took over two weeks of all of us working at it before I could get a stable channel of ether through the link with Lora for longer than five minutes.”

Mikhail mouthed a silent, _whoa_.

“I had to channel everything through a focus.” In emphasis, Malos drew his weapon’s Crystal from his Core. The sword sang in Mikhail’s senses with darkness typed ether as it solidified.

Mikhail copied Malos’s actions, drawing out his own weapons. Just holding them in his grip helped Mikhail feel better.

Malos’s voice was comforting as he gave directions: “Close your eyes. Feel your weapons. They’re part of you. Any ether you move goes through them as well. That itch that keeps pushing at you? Push it to your weapons.”

He wasn’t sure why, but now Mikhail could _see_ the itch in his head. It looked like feather fluff all scattered around the room. All that fluff needed to be gathered up. Left fan first; twist and flick to scoop. Most of the fluff was caught but some of it scattered. Right fan next; same kind of twist, flick, scoop. More of the fluff gathered, but still more scattered. Step left, circling around the gathered fluff, and another scoop with his left fan. Another step left, another scoop with his right fan. Gather it all. Gather it all _tight_.

_Now!_

Mikhail took a knee so as to slap his fans down against the ground. The gathered fluff shot up in a cloud of feathers. It lifted up and swirled out and –

“Open your eyes, Mik’!” Malos laughingly ordered.

Oddly not startled, Mikhail opened his eyes. A spike of darkness was twisting in the ether, dropping feathers _everywhere_. Any feather that touched the ground dissipated into base ether. One feather was right in front of him. Mikhail scooped the feather with his left fan so that it would stay up. A tiny puff of darkness ether lit up the edge of his fan and turned the one feather into three. Grinning as he did it, Mikhail switched to using both fans. Dozens more feathers filled the air.

_How many can I keep up?_

Mikhail moved through/around/part of the feather flurry. It was a dance. A dance between Mikhail and the ether and the feathers.

What felt like hours later only one feather was left. Mikhail twisted his left fan so that instead of a catch it was a slice. Darkness centered on the last feather. Tightened into a faint _blink_ of crackling darkness ether. And then was gone.

Mikhail sat down where he’d stopped. He felt like he had done _weeks_ worth of exercises with Lora’s weights ‘nd _dozens_ of laps around the Monoceros and all sorts of exercisy stuff.

Malos sat down next to him. Reaching over, he ruffled Mikhail’s hair.

“That was fun,” Mikhail admitted around breathlessness.

“Looked like you were having a blast,” Malos chuckled.

“Feathers _everywhere_ ,” Mikhail giggled. “Do Arts always leave you this tired?”

“Depends on the Art. You’re gonna need to build up stamina.” Malos laughed at Mikhail’s expression. “You’re gonna have to put the work in if you want to chase feathers for longer than two minutes.”

“Two minutes? That was all just _two minutes_?” At Malos’s affirmative, Mikhail plopped to lean against Malos’s chest and groaned.

Malos squeezed Mikhail gently in a comforting hug.

* * *

 

“I have an idea.”

Jin froze. Haze blinked. Lora got ready to put on her bracers. Those four words coming from Malos could involve anything from mundane to hazards towards life and limb. Given they were all in That Room, the odds tipped closer to hazard.

Malos pointed at Lora. “You’re still pouting over the whole Absolute thing.” Before Lora could more than sputter, Malos pointed at Jin, “And _you_ haven’t let yourself channel ether to her since then.” Lastly he pointed at Haze, “And you are driving the rest of us up a wall with your mother henning.”

Haze fumed, “I have not!”

“You have and you know it. And you.”

Mikhail stared at Malos’s fingertip, going cross-eyed looking at the tip less than an inch from his nose.

“Do the feather thing,” Malos requested.

Lora looked at Jin; mouthed, _Feather thing?_ Jin shook his head negative, as lost as Lora.

Mikhail looked Malos in the eye. Tipped his head to one side in a silent, _Seriously?_ Malos tipped his head in an almost solemn nod and held up one finger.

“Okay,” Mikhail shrugged. The Blade Eater put a distance of a couple of feet between himself and the group. Bringing both hands to his Core Crystal, Mikhail pulled out his weapons. Holding out his left fan in front of him, Mikhail gave it a gentle flick.

Darkness ether collapsed into a single black feather as long as Mikhail’s hand balanced on the fan’s tip.

“I can make, like, six dozen of these at one time,” Mikhail explained, twisting his fan to disperse the feather. “If they hit anything more solid than a wind gust they disperse back into ether. Its kinda fun to see how long and how many I can keep up in the air. Sort of made a game out of it.”

“And we’re gonna borrow that game,” Malos stated.

Haze sighed. “All right. I’ll bite. How?”

“Mikhail’s going to provide the feathers. Lora and Jin will catch those feathers using ice. Haze will be scorekeeper. I’ll spot.”

“But the feathers ‘ll just burst before they freeze,” Mikhail pointed out.

Malos’s grin was like that of a friendly piranhax as he countered with,“Not if Jin freezes them fast enough.”

Jin eyed Malos. Turned towards Mikhail. “May I see one of those feathers, Mikhail?”

Mikhail flicked his left fan forward. A single black feather solidified about a foot ahead of Mikhail and a good three feet from Jin. The boy blushed as he admitted, “Sorry. I’m not very good at targeting where they fall.”

“This’ll be good practice, then,” Lora hummed.

“ _If_ it works as Malos intends,” Haze tacked on.

Jin used the flat of his sword to catch the feather. The feather burst with a bare dusting of ice on it. Frowning, Jin looked his request to Mikhail. Mikhail complied, creating another feather. This one left a rough outline in ice before dispersing. A third feather was successfully trapped, frozen into a solid state before its particles could disperse.

Jin sheathed his weapon, shaking his head negative as he did so. “The required ether comes too close to using Absolute,” he reported.

“Then it sounds like its just perfect.”

Jin looked at Lora like the girl had gone mad.

“Think on it, Jin. If we’re in a fight – a _real_ fight, with Praetorium monks who _will_ kill us – you’re not going to stop channeling ether to me. Not even if you use Absolute. In fact, I don’t think its physically possible _to_ stop channeling ether like that. To just – stop,” Lora countered.

Jin looked away and sighed.

 _Which meant he has thought of that possibility and does not like it,_ Malos knew. Hell. Malos had likewise thought of it, and sure a Titan’s sore foot, Malos didn’t like it, either.

“Spot how?” Jin asked, almost but not quite glaring at Malos.

“I’ll pull ether through Lora’s half of my Core Crystal if it gets to be too much, and call the game,” Malos explained. He had his right hand over his half of the Core Crystal.

Haze reluctantly added, “If you keep your ether focused on your weapon, Jin, Lora should get just the eddies of whatever power you use. Theoretically.”

“It can’t hurt too bad to try it at least once,” Lora requested.

Jin fidgeted, keeping his eyes away from Lora. He fidgeted some more as Lora upped the ante with a, “Please, Jin?”

Sighing, Jin capitulated, and gave Lora his weapon.

“I guess its game on?” Mikhail asked.

“I suppose so,” Haze concurred. “On your mark, Mikhail.”

“Er… Right. Let me get up enough ether for a big pile.”

“Don’t make it too easy for us, Mik’,” Lora requested as she took a ready stance. Jin just sighed, channeling ether to his weapon and through to Lora.

Mikhail breathed in, drawing his fans close in a steady, slow gesture. Breathing out, Mikhail moved his fans outward. Ether bubbled up in front of Mikhail, an invisible but tangible puddle to every Blade in the room. Mikhail brought his fans directly in front of him, right fan overlapping the left. He twisted both out, up, over his head, and forcefully brought both fans down to make a massive splash in the ether puddle.

Feathers went everywhere. Lora held herself still in the feather maelstrom. And then –

Lora danced.


	11. Snippet Eight: Details Matter

For the first time Lora could remember, the Monoceros had a problem with its engine. There had been minor problems before: Their little family had run the ship hard and long since they'd first stolen it right out of port. Even so, for this... Yes. No getting around it.

They were going to have to put Monoceros in its dry dock.

The dock wasn't a bad place, really. It's location was secure from any possible discovery. There was breathable air thanks to the garden Haze had started. The lights were the same kind as the Monoceros. It had once been a Judecium outpost, so it had more than everything they needed to maintain the Monoceros. It was just... located on the rotting corpse of a nameless Titan.

"This place is always so damn creepy," Mikhail shuddered.

Haze cleared her throat. Eyes still on the shadows of the dry dock, the man-maybe-teenager handed over a ten gold piece.

Lora latched on to that to distract her: Somewhere over the years, Mikhail had hit a growth spurt -- and then simply stopped growing. Had it been this decade? Time was hard to keep track of with how the days blended into one another. The child looked like a man in his early twenties, and acted like a boy in his preteens.

"We won't have to stay long," Jin noted, slinging his pack to the ground.

"...yeah," Malos drawled, "about that."

Lora frowned. Turning to look at Malos, she found her Aegis was staring at the side of the Monoceros. Following his look, Lora had to gulp down a shout. Squoods were never the most aesthetic of creatures. What was left of this one was... Oh dear. It was a good thing Lora hadn't had lunch yet.

Mikhail whistled. "How long you think it's been there?"

" _How_ did it get there?" Haze asked. "It never showed on any of the warning systems."

"Glitch in the systems?" Lora hesitantly offered. They depended too much on those systems working to stay one step ahead of Indol. If they went out...

"Could be," Malos mused. "This bucket has been running for a hundred and fifty years."

"Has it really been that long?" Lora wondered. "A hundred and fifty --"

Wait.

" _A hundred and fifty_ **years?!** "

Malos took a prudent step back away from Jin and Lora. "Yeah...?"

"I should be dead!" Lora pointed out. If not dead, then covered in wrinkles, confined to bed, unable to think about lifting any of her Blades' weapons. She should be frail, and spotted, and threatening to start molding. Instead she didn't look or feel a day over twenty five.

"Shit," Lora head Mikhail gasp, "I forgot you're human." Haze cleared her throat. "Blade Eater," Mikhail swiftly clarified.

"We'll take that as a compliment," Haze decided on Lora's behalf. Given Lora herself was staring at Malos, Haze speaking for them both was fine.

Malos's chuckle had an edge of worry. "Guess I forgot to mention it."

"Mention _what_?" Jin demanded. Diamond dust was forming in the air as his ether reacted to his distress. Jin might have been in his Absolute armor, too; Lora couldn't see him out the corner of her eye.

"My Core Crystal maintains Lora's body in homeostasis, just like it does mine. All Core Crystals do. It's why Blades don't physically age." Malos shrugged sheepishly. "Sorta slipped my mind."

"A _couple_ of decades at _most_ ," Lora echoed that long ago chat.

"Fifteen is a couple."

" _Malos!_ "

Malos flinched at their double yell, admitting, "The last injuries healed one hundred and thirty years ago."

"And you didn't take it back!" Lora fumed, gesturing to the warm stone in her chest. Malos refused to meet her eyes. "You know full well the longer I have it, the more risk you're in. Malos, _please_ , why didn't you tell me?"

"Because we'd have fought, alright?" Malos blurted. Arms out and open, Malos pleaded with them both, "As long as you have half my life, I can't loose you. _We_ can't loose you! I love you damnit!"

Lora froze as solid as absolute zero ice.

"I love you. And Jin. And that witch Haze. _And_ Mikhail even when he is stealing my tools."

"Nice attempt at deflection," Haze mused, sounding amused and keeping Mikhail from jumping in. "Please do go on."

"What, like there's more to say?" Malos scoffed. Lowering his hands he looked away. "I'm a gluttonous greedy armu. I want to keep you all for as long as I live. Because I love you."

Lora absently reached for their ether link. Gasping, she held her hands to her mouth. _Love_ filled the link to bursting. Pure, platonic, oh so complicated love, like that of a brother for their sister.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Lora asked, tears making the world blurry.

"I was afraid you'd say no," Malos admitted meekly.

Jin was in his Absolute armor: He got to Malos first, and pinned the Aegis long enough for Lora to join the hug.

"Please don't make me take it back," Malos whimpered, resting his head against Lora's and Jin's.

Lora shook her head, headless of her tears -- headless of Malos's tears, and Jin's, and Haze's, and Mikhail's as the latter two joined them. They stayed together.

For as long as the Architect granted, they would stay together.


	12. Snippet Nine: Recruitment Drive

"So much for just rescuing Core Crystals," Malos snarked.

"Huh?" Mikhail mumbled. Given he was hanging by his knees from a support strut and was crawling up to his abs upside-down in one of the more finicky systems, his distraction was understandable. It was also why Malos was up there with Mikhail: Mikhail had only fallen from here one time. Once had been more than enough, thanks.

"Wrap it up," Malos ordered. "Lora, Jin, and Haze brought back souvenirs."

"Dinner?" Mikhail wondered. Malos snorted. Free of the inner workings, Mikhail put up an affronted air. "Hey! I'm a growing kid, you -- whoa."

There were two people walking into the engineering sector with Lora, Jin, and Haze. Both were wearing fresh shirts and pants from the "need a quick disguise" wardrobe. Both had black hair and looked like they'd only just gotten a much needed bath. One was a guy with glasses. The other was a smokin' hot babe.

Malos snickered. Reaching over, he shut Mikhail's jaw. Mikhail gave the Aegis a glare before going back to the business of getting boots on the ground.

"This is the secondary maintenance section. As you can see, we mostly use it for Core Crystal containment," Lora informed the two new faces. Their eyes were just a bit too wide as they took in the shear number of Core Crystals present.

"How many years has your operation been active for?" asked the male, pushing up his glasses.

Jin amicably chuckled, "Which phase?"

Haze slapped Jin on the shoulder. To their guests, she explained, "We started Core Crystal rescue operations fifty years ago. You two are our forty seventh successful rescue. The Core Crystals being transported with you make for over a thousand."

"We don't keep them," Malos spoke up.

The two jumped, both taking defensive stances. Malos kept his distance, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to convey, _Not harmless but not here to hurt you._ Mikhail just grinned, his tongue tied.

"There you two are!" Lora giggled. "These two fine fellows are Malos and Mikhail."

Malos waived. Mikhail got it together enough to wave, too.

"Malos, Mikhail, this is Akhos and Patroka."

"Salutations," Akhos managed, reluctantly coming out of his crouch.

"What the hell kind of Core Crystal is that?" Patroka demanded, jutting her chin at Malos in a point.

"The kind that's mine," Malos snarked. Uncrossing his arms, Malos looked over to Lora. "You forgot to mention you were running a recruitment drive."

"We're currently weighing our options," Akhos swiftly corrected.

From the way Haze smiled and Jin shook his head? Yeah. They were going to join up. Just a matter of them figuring it out.

"We were just wrapping up the tour, actually. Not often we get a chance to show off our home," Lora gushed breezily. "Who wants dinner? We got takeout from Argentim!"

Architect bless her, Lora was a nut.

"Take it minimum casualties?" Malos hummed.

"One soul who will be incapacitated for a few months. The others will be put back into boot camp," Haze confirmed, heading for the corridor which led to the kitchen

"I still say he could have ducked," Jin pointed out from the rear of the group

"They were all very green," Lora concurred. She was equal distance to almost everyone, walking near enough to the newcomers so that they wouldn’t feel abandoned among strangers.

Mikhail kept his mouth shut and tried to keep his eyes forward. Against his will, his eyes kept traveling over to the woman. Patroka. Ah. _Patroka_. What a fitting name for such a hot – _ow!_ Stupid Malos “accidentally” elbowing him. What was it, pick on the kid day? The jerk.

“Here we are. Back at the mess,” Lora announced cheerfully. The promised Arentim takeout had been spread across three tables. Lora and Haze must have cleaned out at least five different shops.

“Dibs on the noodles!” Mikhail pounced. His forward momentum was abruptly checked by a beefy hand catching the back of his shirt. “Ow!”

“Dibs on you getting the dishes,” Malos corrected. Ugh. It must really be pick on the kid day with the way Malos was grinning like a fat volff sizing up dinner.

Rolling his eyes, “ _Fine_ ,” Mikhail headed for the kitchen. Just so Malos wouldn’t have anything else to hold over him, Mikhail counted out the tableware twice, making sure to include two more for their new recruits. Dishes secured, Mikhail carried them out to the mess.

Just in time to see Malos take a to-go bowl of what was clearly Argentim noodle soup off the table. “Malos!” Mikhail whined.

“Considering the black hole that’s your stomach, its get it now or get it never,” Malos teased.

“Don’t worry. We got extra,” Haze chuckled.

“My savior,” Mikhail thanked, offloading the dishes onto their preferred table. One of these days, they needed to get around to redecorating the mess as a whole. They had pulled out and re-purposed a majority of the tables and replaced some of them with plants from Haze’s garden. There was still so much wasted space, though. It made things awkward.

“They had a sale on grilled anchortail,” Lora added.

“ _Mine_ ,” Malos growled, turning on his heel to lunge for the aforementioned item.

Lora bat Malos’s hand away. “There’s more than enough to _share_.”

Malos pouted, “But its my favorite.”

“Which is why they bought sixty servings,” Jin noted, a faint smile curling his lips.

“He’s not seriously going to eat all of it,” Patroka demanded of no one in particular.

“Not in one sitting,” Haze chuckled. She shooed both Akhos and Patroka towards the waiting food. “Don’t let the children playing frighten you. Eat up! No one on the Monoceros goes hungry.”

“And how many people are aboard the – Monoceros, you said?” Akhos asked.

“Oh, just us,” Lora shrugged.

It was a good thing Akhos had already been sitting down or he would have dropped his plate. “Just… Just _five_ people? Are you all Blades?”

“Oh, no,” Haze giggled, passing around the water pitcher before taking her seat. “Lora’s human.”

“Seriously?” Patroka demanded.

“Seriously,” Malos and Jin confirmed simultaneously. Jin took the water pitcher, poured out a measure for himself and Lora, and passed it down to Malos.

“How many members are in your organization?” Akhos demanded after the water had gone past him. “Thousands? Hundreds?”

“Five,” Jin answered succinctly.

“ _Five?!_ ” Akhos squeaked.

Mikhail kept his smile hidden by stuffing his face with noodle soup. _Did not know a grown man could hit that high a note without help._ Patroka was looking as wide eyed as Akhos. Time to distract them or they’d loose them to their own heads. Setting his soup bowl down, Mikhail asked, “So… You two related?”

Akhos jerked to look at Mikhail so fast his neck popped. Patroka slammed her fork through the table.

...clearly _not_ the best topic.

“You said you were siblings,” Jin dropped into the silence.

“We’re _not_ ,” Patroka growled at the same time Akhos was saying, “Our Drivers were.”

“Not like it matters,” Patroka spat, curling defensively around her plate.

Haze set down her water glass. “We should cover some ground rules.”

“Why? We’re not going to be here long,” Patroka snarled.

“Its common decency,” Akhos started to say.

“ _Che_ ,” Patroka cursed.

Taking that for acquiescence, Haze began listing out the general rules of the Monoceros. Mikhail listened to her with half an ear. The whole bridge being off limits thing was new; then again, there was a lot of delicate stuff on the bridge. Until they had the time to break the newbies in, letting them up near the sensors and things was just asking for an accident. The bulk of Mikhail’s attention was taken up by… well. Staring at Patroka. There was something wild about her. Something fierce that caught Mikhail’s eye; that made it impossible for him to look elsewhere.

“What the hell is your problem?” Patroka snapped.

It took Mikhail a precious second to realize Patroka was talking _to him_. Startled, Mikhail leaned back from the table.

“Do you have a problem with me?” Patroka demanded.

“N-N-” Mikhail got out.

“Then why do you keep staring at me?”

“E-Er – w-well --”

“Its because I’m a Flesh Eater, isn’t it? You think you can just stair at the cannibal like I’m some kind of freak sideshow.”

“N-No!”

“I’m not going to take being looked down on by anyone! Not by Indol. Certainly not by some common Blade bastard --”

“Eater!” Mikhail blurted.

Silence which held for about a count of three. Patroka shattered it with a growled, “Excuse me?”

Mikhail swallowed a lump of noodle stuck in his throat. Maybe that was shoe leather. How he’d gotten his foot in his mouth was something Mikhail would have to figure out later.

“I’m a Blade Eater. N-Not a common Blade,” Mikhail managed to say. Then he got out in a rush: “...andyou’rebeautifulI’msorryIstaredI’llgonowbye.”

Jin grabbed his arm and pulled Mikhail back into his seat before Mikhail could do more than push back from the table. Whimpering, Mikhail pushed dinner aside so that he could put his head on the table and block out the world with his arms. Architect, he felt like he was twelve again, with Malos having found him up to his armpits in disassembled spare parts. This was not a conversation Mikhail could handle. At _all_. Malos was going to start teasing him any second now.

“A Blade… Eater,” Akhos repeated.

“Its exactly what it sounds like,” Malos confirmed. “Instead of a Blade taking in human essence, a human takes in a Blade’s essence.”

“...how?” Akhos asked with a tone of morbid curiosity.

Sighing, Mikhail lifted his head to answer: “Resonate a Core Crystal directly inside a human body.”

Patroka’s jaw hung open. Akhos fidgeted with his glasses. “That’s insane,” he pointed out.

“Sanity is not a prerequisite for the holiest seat in the Praetorium,” Haze mused.

“The Praetor…?!” Akhos gasped.

“How are you not dead?” Patroka asked.

Mikhail pointed at Malos.

“Heh,” Malos agreed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “That and you being a damn stubborn ten year old.”

Patroka choked on her own spit. If Akhos rubbed at his glasses any harder, he’d pop one of the lenses out. At length, Akhos asked, “We’re the least bizarre people you know. Aren’t we?”

Oh geeze. The poor guy had no clue.


	13. One More Snippet: Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the bunnies did proclaim: Akhos and Patroka need more hugs. And thus, the bunnies' will was done.

The past month felt like it had been a nightmare. A terrible, never ending nightmare. First there had been – no. Akhos couldn’t bring himself to think about it. It was easier to think about Indol. Being found, being captured, being stripped of their armor, being thrown into the transport. All of that was easier to think on. It was easier to think on how the cell door had opened and a man in white armor had walked in. How he had offered them his hand.

“ _We’re here to rescue you._ ”

Akhos set the locket into the drawer besides his borrowed bed. It would be safer there than on his person. These new cloths weren’t bad; they did have pockets and all. It was just… It had been a miracle to find it again.

A miracle the man and his two female compatriots had been willing to risk collecting it. It was a sentimental item worth nothing. Leaving would have been tactically wise. But instead they had made their way to where prisoners’ affects were stored and collected it from the Indoline monk/jail keeper. They had taken such a momentous risk because... because Akhos had _asked_.

The door thumped as a foot kicked it.

“Its open,” Akhos stated, sealing the locket away.

Patroka entered; she kicked the door shut behind her. She gave the room a cursory glance.: One desk with chair, one nightstand, one bed, one closet. Nothing too exciting for a room that had clearly been meant for someone higher up the command chain than the average sailor. Given this ship was captained and crewed by a team of _five…_ Well. Rooms like these were probably a dime a dozen.

“I don’t like the wallpaper,” Patroka complained.

Akhos smiled faintly. “Bulkhead black isn’t your color. Or mine, come to think of it.”

Patroka hooked her ankle around the chair; yanked it out with more force than strictly necessary. Turning it so she sat backwards facing Akhos, Patroka pouted. ...at least as close as his dear sister ever came to pouting, anyway.

“They didn’t kill the monk.”

“Another tactical error.”

“The monk kept the locket, but ditched our armor. What kind of logic is that?”

“Who knows. Maybe he was the type who wanted to hold a memorial service. Assure their spirits of revenge for the horror visited upon them”

“I tried to generate armor.”

From the pinched look, Akhos could guess: It had failed. Being unable to generate new armor brought with it a fear for their weapons. For that piece of themselves that made them Blades. Not quite scrambling, Akhos reached for –

Oh. Oh good. His bow scythe was still with him.

“Idiot. Of course we still have our weapons,” Patroka scoffed.

Akhos let the insult lie. “We’ll need new armor before we can leave. Something that can disguise our Core Crystals.” Akhos gave his sister a look when Patroka scoffed. “Unless you want Indol to find us again inside a week?”

“You think these people are just going to give us armor?” Patroka demanded.

“Why not? They’re woefully under staffed. Giving us armor might woo us to their cause.”

“...whatever,” Patroka sighed. “They’re nuts. You know that, right?”

“Completely off their rockers,” Akhos agreed.

It begged the question who was nuttier: Their rescuers for rescuing them in the first place; or Akhos and Patroka for not getting off this ship immediately.

* * *

 

Patroka tugged on the edges of the armored outfit; tapped her sock wearing feet in the geta sandals, testing the fit. For a nostalgic second Patroka felt her heart swell. It almost – _almost_ – felt like this armor had been made for her.

“The fitting’s good?” asked the normal Blade.

“Yeah. Its fine. Whatever,” Patroka got out. She was not going to be emotional over this. She was _not_. “You could have just given us basic stuff.”

“Basic stuff is boring,” the Blade giggled. Her lips puckered in a frown. “Hold your arms out, please.” When Patroka complied, the Blade leaned in. “Ah. Thought so. That probably pinches a bit. Let me just mark it here to take the seam out a little. There!”

“Its fine,” Patroka reiterated. She was _not_ blushing at the attention.

“I’m a perfectionist. It may be fine to _you_ , but that would drive me up a wall inside two days. You can go ahead and change out of it for now.” The Blade gave Patroka a considering look. “Unless you want to take the risk of a needle?”

Patroka looked at herself in the dressmaker’s mirror. She did not want to take the risk of getting a needle in her side. This was just armor. It didn’t matter that she never wanted to take it off. It was just…

Patroka sighed, “Whatever,” and started getting out of the armor.

“This won’t take but a minute,” promised the Blade.

“Whatever,” Patroka reiterated. Leaning up against a wall, she doggedly kept her eyes away from the Blade. It wasn’t like she cared about making sure her new armor turned out right.

The Blade mused, “I wonder if the boys have had any luck with Akhos. They have no sense of propriety when it comes to their own outfits. If the Architect hadn’t granted Blades be born with coordinated armor, they’d all be just fine running around in fashion disasters.”

“What about the Blade Eater?” Patroka asked without any real interest. Talking killed time.

“Mikhail designed his armor himself. The first draft needed serious revisions. See earlier statement regarding boys, lack of propriety thereof.”

Patroka couldn’t help a snicker at the Blade’s tone.

“It was the first real set of armor I’d ever made. I think its served well enough. Of course I also think Mikhail’s Core Crystal took it and ran with it, which I suppose is all for the better. That boy finds more trouble than a clowder of cats. If his armor wasn’t reinforced by ether, he’d wind up wearing pieces of armor by the end of most fights.” The Blade deliberately paused. “Or wearing nothing at all.”

Oh Architect. Where was the bleach? That image was just – disgusting!

“There we are.” The Blade flicked the cloth out, letting the wrinkles out. Without ceremony, she handed it to Patroka. “We’ll need to do a good test of motion with your weapon, of course. But I think – yes,” the Blade sighed, content, watching as Patroka got back into full gear. “It looks just fine.”

It felt just fine, too. And Patroka was _not_ going to cry over it.

“Now,” the Blade clapped her hands. “Let’s go see how Akhos is coming along. And then you two can chase each other all over That Room with sharp pointy objects.”

“Akhos’s scythe sucks for chasing. ‘s why he sticks with it in a bow,” Patroka grumbled.

“A bow? Even better. We need some good practice dodging projectiles.”

 _That_ succeeded in turning Patroka’s attention from her new armor. “You _want_ Akhos to shoot at you?”

“Not wanting to be shot at doesn’t stop Indol from aiming at us,” the Blade reasoned.

Well, yeah. But there was a world of difference in needing to be prepared for battle and in being shot at for purposes of training. There was…

“Why do you trust us?” Patroka demanded.

The Blade’s smile was soft, and oddly forlorn. “Because you’re just like us.”

Patroka shut her jaw before a bug could fly in.

* * *

 

"Why are we in Temperentia?" Patroka asked her current 'buddy'. Seriously. Who had come up with this? Akhos? Patroka was going to guess Akhos. This guy was so annoying!

"How's your history knowledge?" Mikhail asked. That stupid grin had been stuck to his face for the past -- ugh. For however long it had been since the Monoceros had dropped their teams off.

"Non-existent. Like my patience," Patroka grumbled.

Mikhail's grin got bigger. "Then you're in for a real treat. Did you know, we're not actually on Temperentia?"

Wait. "What?"

"Yeah. This place got renamed Temperentia after the Aegis War. It's actual name is Judecium."

Patroka rolled her eyes. "Judecium is a myth! A place to scare little kids with. You know, _If you don't eat your vegetables, the Flesh Eaters of Judecium will come gobble you up._ That sort of stupid crap."

"If you don't eat your vegetables. Seriously? That's a thing now?" Mikhail scoffed, "Second dumbest thing I've heard this decade."

"This _decade_?" Patroka echoed. One more weird phrase to add to the pile she and Akhos had been collecting. One of these days, Patroka would pin down some facts about these people.

...which was something Mikhail seemed to be encouraging. Damn that stupid grin of his. Patroka wanted to punch it right off his face.

" _Any_ way. Back on topic?"

"Fine. Whatever."

"This Titan is actually Judecium. Their capital was right around," Mikhail pointed at a mountain of dirt, "there. Their military prowess made them a priority target for Indol. But. The Praetorim wanted to make them an example. So, instead of sinking the Titan, they razed it. With a Aegis."

"Only the Great Hero had -- wait. _A_ Aegis? There's more than one Master Blade?"

Mikhail smirked. With deliberate coyness, he continued talking: "Thing was Judecium had gotten Flesh Eater Blade science to an art. Not only could they mass produce Flesh Eaters, but they could handle a lot of the medical fallout." His smirk dimmed. "I got a lot of problems with _how_ they got their technology to where it was. But. It's history. And I got a lot bigger problem with the thought of you and Akhos getting _really_ hurt and us unable to help."

That... That didn't...

"What?" Patroka managed to spit out.

"There's been talk on the salvager scene about an excavation around here turning up some neat tech. We're gonna find that tech, see if it matches some old intel, and then," Mikhail paused. "And then depends on what we find."

"What?" Patroka reiterated.

"What what?" Mikhail blinked.

"You're going after tech specific to Flesh Eaters... for _us_?" Patroka demanded.

"Yeah?" _And so what?_ was implied by Mikhail's tone.

Patroka clung to her weapon. "You're all insane."

Mikhail waived it off with a chuckled, "Nah. We just like to do right by our friends." The blond perked as his eyes caught something glittering ahead of them. "Oh-ho. That looks promising. Come on, Patroka!"

Still stunned at the -- the _casualness_ of it all, Patroka followed after.

* * *

 

"They're mad and we need to get off this bucket of bolts," Patroka demanded.

Withdrawing the locket from its fortified armored pocket and returning it to the nightstand, Akhos said slowly, "Maybe we don't."

Patroka hesitated. Probably for the same reason Akhos was hesitating. These people were... kind. And generous with everything they could be. Akhos had lost count of how many times _one mission_ had been sidetracked because someone saw a person in need.

But while their rescuers were generous with others, they were painfully open with Akhos and Patroka. Not stupidly open; they were still feeling the siblings out. Testing and adjusting to their presence. But...

They _wanted_ Akhos and Patroka to stay.

The concept of being wanted was so alien Akhos barely recognized it.

* * *

 

The world kept swimming in front of his eyes. The fact Patroka's face was right in front of his did not help.

"Akhos...!" Patroka breathed.

"Let him have some air," Haze's voice directed. The Blade's voice sounded hazy. Heh. Hazy Haze. Ooh... his _head_...

Patroka moved aside without exiting his field of vision. Haze came close enough to reach an ether glowing hand out to touch Akhos's chest.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Haze demanded.

The last... thing...? Yes, that's right. "Chopping onions for soup." The kitchen had crested and the floor had come up to punch him. Very inconsiderate of the floor.

"He sounds like that one time Lora caught a cold," Mikhail's voice opined.

"A cold? He can't catch a cold!" Patroka protested.

"She's right. Even with human genetics in his Core Crystal and his body, Akhos shouldn't be able to catch a cold. And for the same reason Lora can't catch colds any more," Malos's deep voice rumbled.

"But then that would mean something is wrong with his Core Crystal," Lora's voice hesitated to say.

"There can't be something wrong with his Core Crystal! There... There just can't!" Patroka yelled.

"Mikhail," Jin began to ask.

"I haven't been able to get the Judecium pod working. There's a key part missing. I just can't figure out what!" Mikhail sounded honestly perturbed.

Malos sighed deeply. "Haze? Move over."

"You're sure?" Haze asked. There was some silent signal exchanged that Akhos couldn't see. Sighing herself, Haze floated out of Akhos's sight.

"What... What are you going to do?" Patroka asked. That quaver in her voice sounded so terribly wrong.

"My job," Malos snarked. His face looked as serious as a grave. "Akhos. Try to relax. Not sure how this'll feel." Malos reached forward.

How what would...?

Black light seemed to scour the inside of Akhos's head. It burned; then eased; then --

_Thinking clearly is a novelty which should never be taken for granted._

"You're the Aegis," Akhos voiced his realization.

"Yeah," Malos conformed.

"I'd think a blasphemy like a Flesh Eater would be on your 'to-smite' list," Akhos mused.

"Shut up. You've got a half dozen cracks in your Core. You're damn lucky to be breathing," Malos grumbled. "And _don't_ ask how you got them. All I can do at this point is guess. 'nd keep an eye on it, if you and Patroka decide not to jump ship."

"You mean you wouldn't lock us in irons and drag us back if we did?" Akhos asked.

"Tempting," Haze hummed.

There was a giggle in Lora's voice as she added, "Very tempting."

If it weren't for the fact reaching around Malos's arm while the Aegis worked would be awkward, Akhos would have adjusted his glasses. "You'd be willing to check Patroka?"

"If she said yes," Malos confirmed.

Akhos looked his question to his sister. Patroka rolled her eyes and huffed, "Fine. Whatever. We'll stay."

For being flat on his back on the floor, Akhos could honestly say: It felt nice to be home.


	14. Snippet Ten: Strike Up The Band

“You bought… a guitar?” Akhos asked.

Mikhail grinned. “Its for Jin! For Lora’s birthday! There was this one guy in the camp who --”

“You bought a guitar,” Akhos barreled through Mikhail’s words. “You bought a _guitar_ knowing full well _we are broke_.”

Mikhail’s smile faltered. “But we got good price on that salvage and --”

“ _We are broke, Mikhail!_ ” Akhos snapped. “We are down to _less than_ thirty thousand gold! We cannot _afford_ to be _wasteful_ and buy things like _guitars!_ ”

“...maybe we could start a band?” Mikhail suggested. Akhos stared at him. “What? You’ve heard Lora sing. She’d make a killing doing solos! And you – oh. You _haven’t_ heard Jin play guitar. Trust me. Give him a bit to blow the dust off, and you will be pleasantly surprised by how awesome Jin can be with a guitar.”

Akhos slapped his palm against his face and groaned, “ _Mikhail_.”

“What did the kid do now?” Malos demanded.

“Malos!” Mikhail perked, looking up from communication to the bridge entrance. “I bought Jin a guitar for Lora!”

“Really? Haven’t heard Jin play guitar in over a century. Be a nice to hear some of the old songs again,” Malos mused.

“He wants to start a band,” Akhos reported.

Malos frowned. “Jin?”

“Mikhail,” Akhos clarified.

“Lora on lead vocals and Jin on guitar!” Mikhail gleefully suggested.

Tapping his foot, Malos hummed. “You know, we have been running shy on good cover stories lately. Starting a band --”

“Oh Architect don’t let him say it,” Akhos begged.

“Might just be a good idea,” Malos concluded.

Akhos burred his face in his hands and groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

They gathered in That Room since it was the most comfortable, and there were target dummies handy for those of them whose short tempers demanded something to smash. Mikhail immediately handed off the guitar to Jin both to keep it from becoming wood chips from Akhos’s building ire, and because Mikhail wanted to show off. It was a _good_ guitar, too. The wood was well seasoned and had been treated so it looked like a snowflake. The tuning pegs were tight enough to hold a tune while loos enough to be adjusted without fighting the instrument itself. Listening to Jin strum a practice cord, testing the guitar’s tune, Mikhail couldn’t stop from grinning.

It didn’t matter what anyone else said. This? Was going to be _amazing_.

“Mikhail’s got an idea for a new cover,” Malos began without further preamble. He gestured for Mikhail to speak up.

“We’re gonna start a band!”

Jin plucked a note out of tune.

“No,” Patroka vetoed.

“I’m tone deaf,” Haze reminded Mikhail.

“You and Akhos can be the band’s managers!” Mikhail giggled. Honest to Architect _giggled_. This was so going to work! “Lora on lead vocals.”

“Mikhail,” Jin tried to say.

“Jin on guitar. We can get Malos a bass guitar, too. Maybe one of those electric ones out of storage!”

“Electric?” Akhos echoed. At the same second Malos was saying, “You said _Jin and Lora_ , Mik’! Don’t drag me any further into this!”

Mikhail rushed on, “I thought I saw an electric one in storage. Anyway – Patroka on backup vocals and keyboard! And me on drums! It’ll be awesome!”

“It’ll be a disaster!” Akhos prognosticated.

“We’ll need to practice to make it work. But it’ll work!” Mikhail insisted with boundless enthusiasm.

“You can’t just say, _we’ll make a band._ ” Akhos insisted. “You need more than just an excellent vocalist and a decent guitarist. You need _songs_. You need _planning_. You need a _director_!”

Mikhail pointed at Akhos.

“Theater direction and band direction are two entirely separate things!” Akhos shrieked. Breathing heavily, Akhos marshaled himself back to sanity. “Besides. What would you even name this hypothetical band?”

“Torna?” Mikhail offered.

Patroka snorted, “Only if you want a dagger in our backs. Call ourselves Torna and we might as well mail the Praetor where to target his next strike.”

Tentatively, Lora raised her hand. All eyes turned to her. “I think I may have an idea…?”

 

* * *

 

 

Standing in the wings of the Mymoma Playhouse, Akhos stared at Haze.

“I can’t believe this is working, either,” Haze admitted at a whisper.

“Welcome one and welcome all! Please great warmly tonight’s main attraction: The _Blades!_ ”

The curtain rose in a flurry of diamond dust. Haze crossed her fingers. Akhos crossed his fingers and his toes.

The first light flicked on upstage left, illuminating Patroka playing the first measure on her keyboard. The second light came up upstage right and center to show Mikhail adding a soft cymbal tap from his drum set. (His _self_ _-_ _made_ drum set which just made the butterflies Akhos did _not_ have even worse.) Next came the light downstage right, catching the white of Jin’s armor and matching guitar perfectly as Jin added the tenor notes to the music. Downstage left came up next to show off Malos – and caused a swoon somewhere in the audience – who added his bass guitar’s thrum. The final light hit a sphere of absolute zero ice right on target, sending a glittering shower of light falling over an immaculately dressed Lora.

Lora opened her eyes. And sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canonically, Torna is a five man band. *rimshot*


End file.
